


The Right to Remain Silent

by BoundLight



Category: Law & Order: SVU, Supernatural
Genre: Angel trouble, Arrested, Established Relationship, Going to court, Hunters & Hunting, M/M, season 5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 02:29:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1923339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoundLight/pseuds/BoundLight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, Dean, and Castiel head to New York city to take care of a haunting. Unfortunately, their actions attract the attention of the police.</p><p>Takes place around season 5</p><p>Crossposted on ffnet</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Everything I know about the law I learned from TV, movies, and books, so it is very likely not 100% accurate. I ask you to forgive me these mistakes and enjoy the story. 
> 
> I've only been to New York once so all places are made up.

Sam was sitting at the small table inside the motel room. His fingers moved lazily across his laptops keyboard as he searched the internet for odd news reports or omens.

 

Dean sat on his bed, leaning back against the head board. He was picking idly at a bag of fries spread out on the bedside table, and watching an old horror movie.

 

Sam’s cell phone rang. He answered with barely a glance at the screen, and said “Hampton Bay Inn, New Hampshire, room….215.” Seconds later they heard the flap of wings and Castiel appeared in the middle of the room.

 

“Hello, Sam. Hello, Dean.”

 

Dean beckoned, and Castiel joined him on the bed, curling around his body like a large cat. Dean kissed him, doing his best to smother his pleased expression. “Missed you.”

 

The angel smiled and kissed the hunter lightly before tucking his head under Dean’s chin. Dean’s hand found its way to the back of Castiel’s neck, and his thumb moved gently through the short hairs there. He heard the angel sigh in contentment and nuzzle closer.

 

Across the room Sam made gagging noises, and then dissolved into a fit of giggles. Dean threw a fry at him. Sam deftly caught it and began to chew loudly. Dean rolled his eyes, he felt Castiel smile against his neck.

 

With his brother close by, old classics on the tube, his angel in his arms, Dean felt more content than he had been in years. Everything was perfect.

 

Sam’s cell rang shrilly. He picked it up on the second ring. “Hey Bobby.” A short conversation later he stood up. “We’ve got a job.”

 

Dean grunted. “Where?”

 

“New York city. It sounds like a straight salt and burn.” Sam grabbed his bag and began stuffing his belongings into it.

 

“Sammy, what’s the rush? Lets sleep here tonight and head out in the morning. The ghost will still be there tomorrow.”

 

“Trust me Dean, you’ll want to leave now. Besides, you can sleep in the car. I’ll drive.”

 

Dean, confused by his brothers rush, untangled himself from his angel and stood in front of Sam, blocking his movement. “Where _exactly_ is this haunting?”

 

Sam sighed and ducked his head, “An orphanage.”

 

Ten minutes later they were leaving. Sam and Castiel carried the last two bags heavy bags filled with guns and ammo out to the Impala, depositing them in the trunk as Dean checked out.

 

They hit the road and were gone.

 

\----------

 

The orphanage was near Central Park, and was surrounded by apartment buildings that had bars on every window. The building itself was old and made of brick, the windows were dark and dirty, and the heavy wooden entrance was riddled with bullet holes.

 

Dean heard a rustling and saw a rat rooting through the trash cans in an alley. “Wow, this place looks cheerful.”

 

Sam nodded and turned to Castiel, “Wait here, kay?” Castiel tilted his head in confusion. Sam grabbed his shoulder and smiled reassuringly, “We’re going to be flashing fake ID’s to get in, and we haven’t made this kind for you yet.” Understanding flooded Cas’s eyes, he nodded.

 

Dean kissed Castiel quickly, “We’ll make you some as soon as we’re done here alright?” He squeezed the angels shoulder, and then he and Sam made their way up the cement steps. Sam knocked on the large door.

 

Nothing.

 

He knocked again.

 

Silence. After a moment they heard something…it sounded like…crying? They tried to open the door. Locked.

 

“Dean.”

 

“I know Sammy.”

 

They hurried back to the car.

 

Dean grabbed his gun, cocked it and tucked it in the back of his pants, pulling his jacket down to hide it. Sam grabbed a shot gun and handed another to Dean. They grabbed three bags of salt and stuffed them into a small backpack which Sam then affixed to his person.

 

A muffled scream filled the air.

 

The three men ran back up to the door.  
  
Dean looked at Cas, “Babe, can you get the door?”

 

Cas reached out and laid a hand on it, and a second later they heard the lock slide back. The door swung open soundlessly.

 

Guns raised the brothers entered, and quickly fanned out, checking the first floor. Empty. Sharing confused looks, Sam and Dean returned to the front door.

 

Cas was standing just inside the entrance way, gazing knowingly around him. The way his eyes jumped around, it was as though he could see through the walls, hell, for all they knew he could. Cas seemed to zero in on a part of the ceiling. “There.”

 

He strode purposefully for a stair case that was almost hidden in the next room.

 

Caught off guard, for a moment the brothers just watched him go. Then Dean caught Sam’s eye, shrugged, and quickly moved to catch up. At the top of the stairs Cas paused before moving to a random door halfway down the hallway. He reached for the door knob, but Dean moved up behind him and placed a hand on his arm. Cas looked curiously at him, and Dean gently gestured with his head. The message was clear, _get behind me_. Dean knew the angel healed fast, but he hated letting anything happen to the other man. Cas stepped back.

 

Sam took hold of the door knob, and then he and Dean burst into the room, guns raised.

 

They were greeted with screams.

 

There were fourteen small children in the room cowering against the far wall.

 

“Oh…uh…” Dean looked at Sam, knowing how the two of them must look.

 

Castiel moved forward and crouched near the children. Instantly the crying stopped. A little girl ran forward and buried herself in his trench coat, the other children gathered around him, and they all reached for something to hold on to.

 

“Uh, Sammy,” Dean started, “What is going on?”

 

“…I have no idea.”

 

Cas turned his head to look at the brothers, “Their souls are pure. They can sense what I am.”

 

“Oh…” Sam looked at Dean and shrugged, “Makes sense.”

 

Suddenly the children were screaming again, a pale figure covered in blood with torn clothing and a wicked smile had appeared in the middle of the room. It lunged for Cas. Dean shot it, and it vanished in a wisp of smoke.

 

“Lets get this room secure,” Sam said, dropping his bag and tossed a bag of salt to his brother. Together they put lines of salt under every window, and across the door. Satisfied they approached Cas and the children.

 

Dean smiled as reassuringly as he could, “Hey kids, I’m Dean and this is my brother Sam,” he indicated to the angel, “You’ve already met our pal Cas. We’re here to protect you all, alright?”

 

The children still had tears standing in their eyes, but they all nodded. A few shifted closer to Castiel.

 

Sam took a knee and softly asked, “Where are the adults?”

 

A little boy sniffed and said, “The ghost person locked them in the basement. H-he said he wanted to play with us and that they’d get in the way.”

 

Dean moved over to the window, and froze. “Sam! Check this out.”

 

Sam joined his brother. “What?”

 

“Look.” He pointed. Sam followed the finger, and froze. Behind the building there were twisted trees and large bushes, but from where they stood it almost looked like there was a small cemetery back there.

 

Sam grinned, “What do you wanna bet our friend is buried back there?”

 

Dean nodded, “That’s what I was thinkin’.” He turned to the kids, “You said the ghost wanted to play, has he played with any of you?”

 

Shyly two girls raised there hands.

 

“Did the ghost tell you his name?”

 

“H-he said his name was Jerry.”

 

“Okay kids, my brother and I are going to go get rid of this ghost. Stay here with Cas alright? You’ll be safe, just don’t break any of the lines of salt. Lets go, Sam.”

 

Carefully stepping over the salt line, they made there way downstairs. At the base the ghost appeared again, Sam shot it immediately.

 

They heard a loud banging, coming from the kitchen. Entering, Dean noticed a door in the back. Someone was banging loudly. “Help! Please, help us!”

 

Sam ran over to the door and tried to open it. Locked. Dean moved to pick it. “Go find the grave.” Sam nodded and found a door leading out back.

 

Outside Sam noticed a garden. Lying on the ground near a fresh hole was a shovel. Grabbing it he ran towards where they’d seen the cemetery.

 

It was further than he had expected, and was surrounded by a high fence. He climbed it easily and quickly, began reading every headstone. Luckily this cemetery was private, and rather small. Sam quickly found a grave marked “Jeremy Harper, Beloved by All.”

 

As he started to dig he was suddenly flung back. A shot rang out, and Dean was in front of him, offering him a hand up. Sam panted, “Thanks.” He picked up the shovel and began digging again. As Sam began to tire, and Dean took over. Climbing out of the hole, Sam looked around. There was no one around. He looked down at Dean. “Did you get that door open?”

 

“No, I think the ghost wants it closed, so it’s staying closed.”

 

Soon he hit wood. They uncovered the body, covered it in salt and lighter fluid, and set it ablaze. Once the body was reduced to ash, they returned inside.

 

Dean went to the door leading to the basement. It opened easily. Four adults were down there, two men and two women. They exited fearfully. One women grabbed Dean’s arm, “Is it gone?”

 

He nodded. “Yes.”

 

“Where are the children?”

 

Dean gently escorted her to the stairs, the others following, “They’re in a room up here. A friend of ours is watching them.”

 

“How did you find us?” One of the men asked quietly.

 

Sam smiled. “We heard about your ghost”

 

The man’s eyebrows shot up. “And you _believed_ us?”

 

Dean laughed. “Hunting things, it’s what we do.”

 

Sam nodded.

 

When they entered the room, the children ran for the adults, some crying in relief.

 

Cas rejoined the brothers. Dean wrapped an arm around the angels shoulders, “Well that was fun, lets get out of here.”

 

As they headed for the door, the room was suddenly filled with six people with large guns, all dressed in black heavy padding and helmets marked with large yellow symbols identifying them as the police. “FREEZE! FREEZE! FREEZE!” They shouted.

 

Sam looked horrified. “Oh… fuck.”

 

Dean looked seriously at Castiel. He knew from experience that the angel wouldn’t lie. Cas would tell these officers about ghosts, about demons, and hell, and all about angels. Breaking out of jail they could do, but Dean would be more confident if they were all in the same place. If Cas ended up in a psychiatric ward it would just complicate everything needlessly. With this in mind he shook the angel. “Cas, don’t say _anything._ ”

 

Cas looked at him with wide eyes full of confusion, but he nodded.

 

Three more officers entered the room. They wore Kevlar, but not the rest of the black suit, and they had smaller weapons. One was a woman with short hair, the other two were men. One who looked very intense and one who was older and seemed to be wearing shades. They forced the men to the ground, clicking handcuffs firmly into place, then dragged them back to their feet and pushed them out of the room. The intense man had Dean, the woman took Sam, and the guy with shades had Cas. As they exited the building the officers said, “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can, and will be used against you in a court of law….”

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys lawyer is of my creation and resembles no actual person fictional or otherwise.

Olivia Benson was talking into a phone, taking quick short hand notes.

 

“Uh huh. Calm down, al…alright. How many? We’ll be right there.” She hung up. “We’ve got something!” She shouted the address and soon she, Stabler, and Munch were rushing out, lights blaring, tires squealing.

 

They had an armed guard and orders were vests on, weapons hot.

 

As they rounded a corner Elliot turned to Olivia. “What are we heading into?”

 

Olivia consulted a note pad. “Neighbors have been hearing screams, three assailants, presumed armed and dangerous.”

 

Elliot shook his head, “What kind of sicko attacks an orphanage?”

 

“Maybe they had a bad experience.”

 

The car pulled up in front of the building, Munch was already coordinating the kevlar clad officers.

 

Olivia and Elliot joined him. “Ready?”

 

The three detectives mounted the stairs and stood on either side of the door. The officers waited behind them.

 

Elliot reached out for the door knob; it turned easily under his hand. He nodded to the guard and pushed the door open. The six officers ran in, weapons raised. The first floor was quickly secure.

 

Munch paused, “You hear that?” He looked around, “They’re upstairs.”

 

Cautiously they mounted the stairs, fanning out at the top and approaching the only open door. Something white was lining the entrance, and it sounded like someone was crying.

 

The officers quickly entered, shouting for the assailants’ to freeze. The detectives followed quickly.

 

They saw a large group of children clinging to four adults, and three men, two with guns, who _had_ been walking towards the door. The same white substance from the door was underneath all the windows as well.

 

The men were clearly surprised to have been interrupted, then the tallest said, “Oh… fuck.” The second looked severely at the man in the trench coat and said, though to Olivia it sounded more like an order, “Cas, don’t say _anything_.”

 

Benson, Stabler and Munch rushed forward, dragging the three men to the ground and locked handcuffs firmly in place

 

Olivia looked up to tell the civilian audience that they were safe now, maybe give the kids some comfort, but what she saw confused her into silence.

 

The adults looked horrified and the children stunned and confused. No one looked relieved or happy that the bad guys were being taken away. Were they wrong about who the assailants were?

 

She looked at the men in their custody. None of them seemed surprised or angry at being _wrongfully_ arrested. In fact they all looked like they expected it. Well, two of them did anyway. The third, “Cas” she thought, had a blank face, he wasn’t reacting at _all_ to this situation. It was rather unnerving.

 

She was about to mention this to her partner when Munch interrupted, “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

 

They placed the men in the cars and left.

 

\----------

 

When they reached the station the three men were immediately separated and escorted to interview rooms that were as far apart as possible.

 

Once inside the rooms they were directed to chairs facing the two way mirror. Handcuffs were removed and then replaced, anchoring each man to the table.

 

The detectives left and reconvened by their desks.

 

Munch leaned back in his chair, “Something is off about these boys, any of you feel that?”

 

Fin walked over and sat on his partners desk. “Or you’re just paranoid.”

 

“Where’ve you been?”

 

“Had to run down to Narcotics.”

 

“Well if you’d met these guys you’d be paranoid too.”

 

Elliot grabbed two cups of coffee and passed one to Olivia, “I think you’re right, Munch. Did you guys notice how familiar they look? I know I’ve seen that green eyed guy some where before…”

 

Fin laughed. “That green eyed guy? You don’t have any names yet? I swear, I step out for one minute and you guys just start layin down on the job. Didn’t they have any ID on them?”

 

Olivia shook her head, “We’re running their faces through a data bank, and the labs running that white powder we found.”

 

“They did have some IDs, just no _real_ ones.” Munch sighed and flipped open a small notepad, “Okay, green eyes and the tall guy have four fake IDs apiece, each with a different name. They have one for the FBI, one for the Department of Homeland Security, one for the NYPD, and get this, one for Child Services, think that’s how they got in?”

 

Elliot shrugged, “Best theory we’ve got so far.”

 

Fin nodded. “Okay, so that takes care of two of them, what about the third?”

 

Olivia shook her head, “The green eyed guy called him “Cas.” He doesn’t have anything on him; no wallet, no cell phone … and no weapons either.”

 

“What are you gettin’ at Liv?”

 

Olivia sighed, “I’m just not so sure this third guy is a suspect…I think he might be a victim.”

 

It was Elliot’s turn to be confused, “A victim of what?”

 

“I don’t know yet, it’s just, did you hear the green eyed guy ordering him to be quiet?”

 

Munch seemed surprised. For a minute there they’d all forgotten the brief words uttered when they had first entered that room. “Yeah, you’re right he did.”

 

“Has he said anything since?”

 

Cragen interrupted their conversation. “Alright people, gear up, you’re all going out and picking up the kids and the workers who were taken hostage, see if you can get them in here and get them talking. We’ll let those boys cool their heels ‘till we figure out who they are. Let’s move people.”

 

As Olivia pulled on her jacket she decided to go with her hunch, “Hey, uh, I think we might want to call Huang down and have him check out the perps.”

 

Cragen nodded, “You’re right, there’s something off about these guys, lets figure it out. Fast.”

 

\----------

 

After a few hours of questioning the detectives were getting frustrated.

 

The kids were all swearing up and down that the three men had _saved_ them, but none of them would say from what. At Huang’s suggestion, Munch had assured each child that it was okay to tell the truth, the bad men couldn’t hurt them anymore.

 

It hadn’t worked.

 

After he’d finished questioning the fourteenth child, Munch returned to the room on the other side of the two way mirror.

 

He sighed, “What’s going on here…”

 

Huang looked rather intrigued, “None of the children were lying. They all honestly believe these men saved them.”

 

“Saved them from what?” Elliot asked in exasperation. “Those guys were armed, had all of those people in that room and no one else was in the building.”

 

“Let’s bring in the adults and see what they have to say.” Cragen said.

 

Fin questioned the adults. Their stories were all the same. They’d been trapped in the basement, they didn’t know by whom, and then two men let them out and upstairs there was third man who was comforting the children.

 

When they were finished questioning the victims they all met in Cragen’s office.

 

“Were going to have to let those boys go; we have nothing to hold them on.”

 

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and a young officer held out three pieces of paper. He looked pale and shaken.

 

As Cragen flipped through the paper Fin asked the officer, “What’s wrong with you?”

 

“W-we’ve identified the suspects…”

 

As one the four detectives looked at Cragen. He cleared his throat, “It appears we’re holding Sam and Dean Winchester.”

 

“The serial killers?” Elliot was confused, “I thought they were dead?”

 

Munch laughed humorlessly, “They’ve both been declared dead before. Do we know what the white stuff was?”

 

“Yes sir, it was salt.”

 

Olivia was confused, “Who are the Winchesters?”

 

“They’re these sick brothers,” Fin said. “The oldest, Dean, the green eyed guy? He was brainwashed by his dad, and then he brainwashed his brother Sam. Sam had been pre-law at Stanford, and now they’ve been on the run for murder, suspected murder, grave desecration, corpse mutilation, you name it these boys have done it.”

 

“Who’s the third guy?”

 

Cragen turned to the last page, “He’s uh… James Novak. He has a wife and daughter. He went missing over a year ago, he was presumed dead.”

 

Olivia looked thoughtful. “I wonder why Dean called him ‘Cas.’”

 

Cragen took a deep breath, “Let’s go ask him. Olivia, Elliot, go talk to, Mr. Novak. We’ll be watching in the back.”

 

“One more thing,” the young officer interrupted, “The two men have been requesting a lawyer.”

 

“One for each?”

 

“No, they want to share.”

 

“Alright, take care of it.”

 

“Yes sir.” The young man moved quickly aside.

 

Olivia nodded and headed out. Once her coworkers were in place she and Elliot entered the small room.

 

James looked up and analyzed them with piercing blue eyes. Then his eyes moved across the glass. It was almost as though he could look through it… But that was impossible. Right?

 

On the other side of the glass Munch had tensed. “Are we sure that mirror is working?”

 

Fin looked at his partner incredulously. “Of course it works.”

 

“But…he just looked at me.”

 

“Coincidence.”

 

“And then he looked at you. And then Cragen, and then Huang. He _looked_ at us. That’s a hell of a coincidence.”

 

There was an awkward silence.

 

Back in the room Olivia leaned up against the table, “Hi James. Do you mind if I call you James?”

 

The blue eyed man said nothing. His eyes were still focused on the mirror, moving back and forth, as though watching someone move.

 

Elliot walked around the table and sat close to him, slightly in the other man's personal space. Elliot spoke quietly. “What were you doing with the Winchesters?”

 

Nothing.

 

“You know, they’re in a lot of trouble. They have a rap sheet a mile long. Including this little incident? Well, between you and me, those boys are going away for a long, _long_ time. And unless you talk to us…you’re going to end up going with them.”

 

The detectives took their time, trying as many different strategies as they could to get the man to do anything, _say_ anything, but nothing worked.

 

Behind the glass Huang was thinking. Considering this man had been with the Winchesters it was incredibly possible he’d been beaten or tortured into obedience. The responding officers had stated Dean Winchester had given the command for silence once, and James Novak hadn’t said a word since.

 

Huang moved forward and knocked on the glass. A second later Olivia and Elliot had joined him. He told them his theory.

 

Elliot nodded, “Makes sense. It would explain why he hasn’t spoken. He’s scared.”

 

“Well, let’s get in there and make him feel safe.”

 

Huang shook his head, “Hm. No, you’ve been working him over too much. He’ll just think it’s a trick to get him to talk.” He cast his eyes across the rest of the rooms’ occupants. His gaze settled on Fin.

 

“Fin, go talk to him. Try to be strong and protective.”

 

“No problem.”

 

Fin entered the room and sat down directly in front of the other man. “I’m Detective Odafin Tutuola. What’s your name?”

 

The angel turned to look at him, but said nothing.

 

“We heard your name is James Novak, is that right?”

 

The man tilted his head to the side.

 

“You’re safe here. No one can hurt you. We’re gonna protect you, alright? But if we’re going to do that, you’ve have to talk to us.”

 

For twenty minutes Fin did everything he could to get the man to speak, but nothing worked.

 

\----------

 

Cas knew that by keeping silent the officers were thinking increasingly worse things, but Dean had _told_ him to be quiet.

 

He knew _why_. He remembered the first time he had gone with Dean posing as an FBI agent. How he had _tried_ to be helpful, but he kept saying the wrong thing, and Dean kept having to jump in to save him.

 

It was just so _hard_ to lie. Dean had told him that lying was human, but he just couldn’t grasp it; maybe it was the centuries of never needing to use deception.

 

Cas recognized that in this situation Sam and Dean would be doing a lot of fancy footwork to earn their freedom, and he didn’t want to make it any harder on them.

 

So he steeled himself and kept quiet, despite his longing to dispute there horrible questions and accusations on how Dean treated him, he kept quiet.

 

\----------

 

Olivia entered Sam Winchester’s room. She sat down in front of him and looked at him critically.

 

“You want to tell me what you two were doing there?”

 

“Not really. Where’s our lawyer.”

 

“On the way. You know, if you tell us the truth now, we might be able to cut you a deal.”

 

“That’s alright, I’ll wait.”

 

Olivia nodded, waited a moment. “Can you tell me about James Novak?”

 

“What do you want with him?”

 

“Well for one, we want to know why you kidnapped him.”

 

“We didn’t kidnap him.”

 

“James Novak has been missing for over a year and you expect us to believe he left his wife and child to go with you _voluntarily?_ ”

 

“I honestly don’t care what you believe.”

 

“Sam, we know your brother is the ring leader. Help us get him and we’ll be willing to cut you a deal.”

 

Sam looked at her incredulously. “That was just painful. Does that usually work?”

 

Olivia gave up. “When you want to talk you let us know,” and she left.

 

\----------

 

Elliot entered Dean Winchester’s room. The two men regarded each other silently.

 

“Wow. Dean Winchester. You are in _a lot_ of trouble.”

 

Dean shrugged, “What else is new?”

 

Elliot leaned in close, “We’ve got you. Sam? He already turned you in. He told us everything we needed to know.”

 

Dean leaned in, “Then why are you talking to me?”

 

Elliot smirked, “To give you one chance. Tell us your side and we might be able to lessen the sentence.”

 

“Lessen the sentence? To what?”

 

“We won’t pursue the death penalty.”

 

Dean seemed to consider this. Then he shrugged, “I’ll take my chances. By the way, where is our lawyer?”

 

“On her way. Tell me about James Novak.”

 

“James No…. oh. What do you want to know about him?”

 

“Why’d you kidnap him?”

 

“I didn’t kidnap him.”

 

Suddenly Elliot was standing, getting in Dean’s space, barely suppressed rage covering his face, “We know you kidnapped him! We know you tortured him! We know he’s so afraid of you he wont say a word!”

 

Dean grinned, “Really? You know all that?”

 

Elliot shook his head, “I’m going to enjoy watching you go down.”

 

Dean winked, “Sorry, I don’t like you _that_ way.”

 

\----------

 

An hour later a very attractive young woman showed up. “Are you violating my clients rights to have a lawyer present during questioning?”

 

Cragen sighed, “Of course not Miss Chita, follow me.”

 

Cragen lead her to Dean Winchester’s room. The woman paused just inside the door, “I’d like to speak with _all_ of my clients please.”

 

“Of course.” He nodded at Olivia and Fin.

 

Olivia collected Sam, and Fin got James. Both men were escorted to Dean’s room, and then the detectives left.

 

Dean, who had been flirting shamelessly with the lawyer, immediately brightened when he saw Cas. He pulled the angel into a chair and laced there fingers together. Cas smiled softly.

 

Behind the glass, every eye widened.

 

Dean leaned forward. “Are you alright?”

 

“I am fine Dean.”

 

Dean nodded and leaned over to Sam. “Any ideas?”

 

The lawyer cleared her throat. All three men looked at her rather guiltily.

 

“You three are in a lot of trouble.”

 

Dean smiled. “Listen, honey pie, could you give us a minute?”

 

The lawyer glared. “I have a 95% success rate. I’m not losing this case just because you want to have buddy buddy time, get me? I’m trying to help you, but I’m going to need your cooperation.”

 

Sam put up his hands placating. “We know you’re trying to help us, we do. But the best way you could do that right now is to just give us a minute, alright?”

 

The lawyer considered this. “Okay… one minute. Then we’re getting down to business, alright?”

 

“Okay.”

 

She got up and left. Outside the room Elliot looked at her, confused. “What are you doing out here?”

 

“I need a drink, is that a crime?” She stalked across the room to a water fountain.

 

Inside the room Sam and Dean thought quickly. Sam looked at Castiel, “You wouldn’t happen to have a paper clip or something like that would you?”

 

Cas shook his head.

 

Suddenly Dean grinned. “Hey Cas, remember when we first met and you made all those lights explode?”

 

Cas tilted his head in confusion, but he nodded.

 

Sam suddenly brightened in realization, “Do you think you could blow all the lights on this floor?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Dean grinned. “Blow the lights and then get us to the Impala, alright?”

 

“I’m not sure if I can get us to the Impala, I do not know where it is currently being held.”

 

“Come on Cas, just think about the Impala. I know you can do it.”

 

The door opened and the lawyer walked in. “You boys ready to get down to business?”

 

“Do it, Cas.”

 

Suddenly all the lights in the building blew out. There was panic, and people running around trying to figure out what had just happened.

 

Inside the interview room Castiel reached out and touched Sam and Dean’s foreheads. The three disappeared and then were suddenly sitting inside the beautiful black car.

 

Dean grinned. “I love you Cas.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Do it Cas.”

 

There was a high pitched call that had every officer covering their ears, and then glass was showering down onto their heads. Smoke from the burst lights caused all the fire alarms to scream, and water poured down to put out the flames that _should_ have been there.

 

Every officer had been on their toes with the Winchester’s so close. It was well known that the two brothers were ruthless bloodthirsty killers, and everyone had their weapons within easy reach. When the alarms went off, every officer had their guns trained on the interview room instantly.

 

Light filtered in from the windows, and in the haze they could tell that no one had exited.

 

They were contained.

 

Inside the interview room there were no windows; the room was thrown into complete darkness.

 

Chita was terrified. She knew the men she usually defended weren’t exactly innocent, just as she knew these men weren’t either. She knew what Dean Winchester had done to women, and it was obvious what he had done to James Novak. Being alone with them with officers on the other side of the mirror was one thing; being alone with them in the dark was another.

 

Her one relief was knowing that the three men were securely fastened to the table. Still, she wasn’t going to take any chances, and moved as far back as she could, pressing against the glass. They couldn’t reach her there.

 

Outside the room, Elliot and Fin had stationed themselves on either side of the door, Olivia and Munch covering them. The room was secure, there was no where else they could have gone. The door had never opened.

 

Elliot nodded at Fin. He gripped the door knob, and pushed the door open. They rushed in, flashlights lighting up the room.

 

Chita threw her hands up, and watched desperately as the lights swept the room.

 

They were gone.

 

Munch turned, and ran to the room where the children and their guardians were waiting to be released. He stopped, panting. The men weren’t there.

 

“Excuse me,” one of the adults stood. “What’s going on?”

 

Munch silently debated whether or not to tell them. He sighed. “The three men who held you hostage have escaped. Don’t worry –”

 

One of the women breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh thank God.”

 

A child ran up to Munch smiling brightly and grabbed at his jacket. “Did they really get away? Really?”

 

Munch was speechless. He shook his head. “Uh, right, if you feel like you need protection we can get some guards in here –”

 

A man shook his head. “No, we’re fine.”

 

Another child looked up at him hopefully. “Do you think we’ll ever see them again? I never got to thank them.”

 

Munch was beyond confused. Quietly he closed the door, and returned to Cragen’s office.

 

Cragen was yelling, and gesturing fiercely. “I want to know how the hell they destroyed the lights! Check for bugs, explosives, the works!”

 

Elliot frowned. “But how could they have planted anything? We brought them straight here after the arrest! None of them had any time unmonitored.”

 

Munch moved to the front of the group. “You’ll never believe this, but the victims are _relieved_ they escaped and are hoping to see the Winchester’s again so they can _thank_ them. Are we sure these guys are guilty?”

 

Fin shrugged. “Innocent people wouldn’t try to escape. Besides, Dean seems to be pretty good at brainwashing people.” He held up a file. “Every time he’s been taken into custody, his victims always claim he was helping them. He convinced a police officer into letting him go, and it looks like he convinced an FBI agent into declaring him dead so he wouldn’t be followed. Maybe he did that to these poor people.”

 

Munch shook his head. “That’d be the fastest case of brainwashing I’ve ever heard of.”

 

Cragen slammed his fist down on his desk. “That’s enough! I don’t care what they have or haven’t done, I want to know _where they are_. Stabler, Benson, get downstairs and see if anyone saw them leave. Fin, go check the security tapes, they may be able to trick people, but they can’t trick the tape. Munch, I don’t care _what_ those people want, go watch over them. I’m not letting them get terrorized again.” His eyes passed over the four detectives. “Well? What are you still doing here? Get on it!”

 

Munch quickly returned to stand outside the victims room. For a moment he stared at the door. Cautiously a hand reached out and opened it. With one last look over his shoulder he entered the room and decided to have a nice long talk with the people inside it.

 

The adults ignored him, and instead sat at a table on the far side of the room talking amongst themselves. The children were playing with the various toys provided, and were spread out across the floor.

 

Munch sat down next to a girl who was having a tea party with a blonde doll. She smiled. “Would you like some tea?”

 

Munch held up a hand. “I’m alright. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

 

“Julie.”

 

“Well, Julie, I wanted to ask you about exactly what happened earlier, is that alright?”

 

She brushed the hair back on her doll. “Of course!”  
  


“Could you tell me what happened? From the beginning?”

 

“Jerry locked the grownups in the basement, and he started throwing things, so we hid upstairs, and then Castiel showed up.” She smiled softly. “I like Castiel.”

 

Munch frowned. “Castiel? Which one was he?”

 

“He was the smaller one, the one in the trench coat. He looked really sad and serious, but he was really nice. He protected us while the other two went downstairs.”

 

“Protected you from what?”

 

She looked at him in exasperation. “From Jerry.”

 

“So you guys didn’t spend anytime with the other two?”

 

“Nope! They went downstairs and stopped Jerry from hurting us, and then Castiel let us play with his coat.” She looked up at him hopefully. “Is Castiel coming back?”

 

Munch carefully patted her head. “I don’t know sweetie. We’re trying to find them right now.”

 

She nodded sadly. “Miss Berry says you want to put them in jail.”

 

Munch chewed on his lower lip. He didn’t know what to say.

 

\----------

 

Fin walked briskly to a small door in the middle of a hallway, and entered it without any ceremony, causing the rooms two occupants to jump.

 

“Are you here about the lights on the second floor?”

 

“Somethin’ like that. I need to see all the tapes from the second floor starting when the lights burst, and I need to see footage of all the exits starting then, and ending now.”

 

One man called up all the footage Fin requested. The other looked at him nervously. “What do you want us to do?”

 

“Keep watching the exits.” He handed them three pictures. “Keep a look out for these men, or anyone acting suspiciously.”

 

Fin turned to a television in the back of the room and played the footage. There was the door. An officer walked passed, looking at a file. The footage shook as the lights went out, and the door was shrouded in darkness, it was barely visible. He then they were either side of it, and then they went inside.

 

He sat back with a sigh. That just confirmed that the door never opened.

 

He called up the footage of the exits, playing simultaneously with the footage of the door.

 

No matter how carefully he watched, he never saw them leave.

 

\----------

 

Downstairs Elliot and Olivia questioned every officer they could find, they questioned the people manning desks, they questioned people nearby outside. They checked every exit, every back door, every office, every closet, nothing. No one saw anything, and nothing was out of place.

 

Olivia shook her head. “I hope the others are having better luck.”

 

Elliot laughed. “They aren’t. I don’t know how these guys did it, but they are _gone_.”

 

Olivia pursued her lips thoughtfully. “What if they didn’t come down here?”

 

“What?”

 

“What if they went _up_ stairs…”

 

Olivia went up the front, Elliot went up the back. They checked the second floor over, and the third floor above them. Again, nothing and no one saw anything.

 

They finally met up again.

 

“Let’s get back, and see if anyone found them.”

 

Cragen’s office was full.

 

Fin held up the thin disc containing all the footage. “These guys must be ghosts. I watched every exit over a dozen times from three different angles. They never passed. Hell, no one suspicious even passed.” He tossed the disc on to Cragen’s desk roughly.

 

Munch laughed from his position by the door. “I posted two guards outside the victims room. I talked to one of the girls inside, her name is Julie. She told me about how the Winchester’s saved them from someone called ‘Jerry,’ and get this, she called James _Castiel_.”

 

“Huh.” Olivia turned to him. “That explains why the boys kept calling him _Cas_ at least.”

 

“Wait a sec.” Fin looked at Munch. “Who or what is a Castiel?”

 

Munch shrugged. “The Angel of Thursday.”

 

“There’s an angel for Thursday?”

 

“There’s an angel for a lot of things.”

 

Olivia leaned against the door frame. “I wonder why they called him that. Did James disappear on a Thursday?”

 

“No, says here it was a Tuesday.”

 

“Wait.”

 

The room fell silent and all eyes turned towards Elliot. His eyes had widened. Slowly he blinked and turned to Cragen. “Did anyone check their car?”

 

The four detectives rushed down the stairs, and all but ran to the impound. After all, it was a long shot. If they hadn’t _left_ there was no way they could possibly have made it there.

 

Inside they found a man in a white suit analyzing a clipboard.

 

Fin slapped a hand on his back. “We need to find a car that was recently impounded.”

 

“Okay, what did it look like?”

 

“Black, uh, low rider, it was brought in yesterday at about three.”

 

“Yes, lot 335.”

 

Elliot and Olivia ran out to find the car.

 

Munch remained watching the tech. “What did you find in the car?”

 

He checked his notes. “Christ, we found a lot of weapons, bullets that, get this, were filled with salt, knives of every size and made out of every material you could think of, stakes, the works. These guys must have been _insane_.”

 

A shout came out side. “Guys!”

 

Munch and Fin ran outside. Olivia and Stabler had their weapons trained on a Black ’67 Chevy Impala. Inside the vehicle three men stared at them blankly.

 

“Get out of the vehicle!”

 

Sam turned to Dean. Dean frowned. “No, Sam! I’m sick of this crap.”

 

James, or was it Castiel? nodded. “We are wasting our time here.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

 

The car roared to life.

 

The detectives fired, bullets ricocheting off the sides of the car, before they had to dive out of the way. No one in the car had even flinched.

 

The Impala crashed threw the gate, turning the wire fence to twisted ruins.

 

Olivia grabbed a radio. “I need an IBP on a black ’67 Chevy Impala, three suspects, armed and dangerous.” She clicked off the radio. “We’ll catch these guys.”

 

Munch sighed, and dusted himself off. “Something tells me we won’t. Not unless they want us to.”


	4. Chapter 4

Dean drove as fast as he could, weaving in and out of traffic, jumping curbs, and racing for a way out of the city. It was clear one of the detectives had gotten a good look at the Impala, and had probably sent out their plate.

 

There was a loud roar, and a helicopter zoomed by over head.

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

 

“Dean you need to drive faster.”

 

“What do you think I’m doing? Nothing?”

 

“Sure as hell looks like it!”

 

Dean growled, and pushed the petal to the floor. “Come on, baby, just a bit further…”

 

The city was the problem, there was no place to hide or look inconspicuous. If only there was _forest_ or something! Then they could just pull off the road, and wait it out!

 

“Do we know anyone who has a hide out?”

 

“No, Dean! Who the hell lives in New York?”

 

Dean drummed irritably on the wheel. “Cas, can you get us out of this?”

 

“I cannot remove you _and_ the car.”

 

“We’re not ditching my baby. Who knows what those police bastards would do to her.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “They had her last time, and she didn’t die.”

 

“That’s just cause we haven’t checked her properly yet!”

 

There was a blinding light. They peered up. The helicopter had found them, and now had a large spotlight trained on them. No matter how Dean turned or weaved, the light remained fixed on their location. There was a blare of sirens, and a swarm of white cars were advancing on them.

 

“Sam, if you have any great ideas, now would be the time!”

 

The white cars soon caught up, and surrounded them on either side. A few shot ahead, and boxed them in. Dean did not what to harm or scratch the Impala in anyway, so when the officers slowed down, he slowed down with them, until they were stopped in the middle of a highway.

 

“Great. Just great. This day keeps getting better.”

 

“Dean… maybe we should try doing this the legal way.”

 

“What on _Earth_ are you talking about? I thought you were supposed to be the smart brother. Damn it.” Dean offered Castiel a small smile, and they slowly raised their hands.

 

Men in pressed blue uniforms surrounded them, guns trained on their heads. Suddenly the doors were yanked open, and they were dragged out of the car and onto the ground. Handcuffs were locked into place, tight enough to cut off circulation, and they were forced into the back of a police car.

 

They were taken to an unknown building, and were processed. Used to the procedure, Sam and Dean made faces for the camera, and were laughing and light hearted. To ensure they would not break out again, five officers were assigned to each man, and they were never left alone with each other.

 

When their pictures had been taken, and fingerprints documented, they were thrown into a small cell. There was only one bed; Sam and Dean collapsed on it, each claiming a half. Castiel stood next to the bed, watching the movement of officers and criminals.

 

They were left there for a long time. When the sun set, Dean kicked at Sam for more leg room and Sam smacked Dean over the head with a pillow. Eventually they settled into place, Dean’s head resting on Sam’s shoulder, and their legs twitching against each other.

 

Castiel watched them with affection sparkling in his eyes.

 

Cas estimated it was around midnight when one of the officers came to see them. He took one look at the Winchester’s sleeping on the bed and beckoned for the angel to join him. “Those boys are in a lot of trouble. Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?”

 

“The right thing?”

 

“Trying to protect them.”

 

“It is my job to protect them. I fell from heaven for them, I stood up to my brother’s for them, I will not abandon them for _you_.”

 

Munch was startled, but he tried not to let it show. This was the most the man had spoken since being detained. He gave James a tight smile, and stepped away to make a phone call.

 

“James is speaking. Yes. I’m sure as soon as the Winchester’s wake up he’ll clam up again. Fine. Then bring their lawyer with you! Right, I’m going to see what I can get out of him.”

 

Munch clicked his phone shut and turned to find James watching him oddly.

 

He casually walked over. “Can you tell me your name?”

 

“Castiel.”

 

“The angel of Thursday?”

 

The ‘angels’ head tilted to the side. “Yes.”

 

“So you said you, uh, fell from heaven for them?”

 

“For Dean, yes.”

 

“So not for Sam?”

 

The angel’s eyes narrowed and he moved as close as the bars would allow. Munch backed up awkwardly. He wasn’t sure how this ‘Castiel’ managed to look so powerful and in control while being in a small cell, completely unable to cause any harm. If this victim could be so commanding he wondered what it would be like to speak with the Winchester’s in this setting. He made a mental note to have uniformed officers present when they were conscious. Then the angel took a step back.

 

“You mean well. You think you are helping me. But if you want to bring harm to Sam or Dean Winchester you will have to go through me.”

 

A hand appeared on Castiel’s shoulder and pulled him back. Sam smiled at him. “He’s just trying to get a rise out of you, Cas. He isn’t trying to kill us.”

 

The difference in James Novak was very pronounced. While the boys had been sleeping he’d seemed very protective, and now that one of the Winchester’s was awake, he seemed more relaxed. That was the exact opposite of what he’d been expecting. After all, he was speaking right? After the boys had threatened him into silence, right? He silently wished Huang would show up and do his head shrinker bit.

 

“Go keep Dean company, kay Cas?”

 

James silently moved to the bed, and settled near Dean. The younger man instantly curled around him. James smiled and ran a hand through his hair. Dean mumbled something and shifted closer.

 

Sam stared at Munch. He opened his mouth when footsteps started clicking down the hall. “Excuse me detective, are you violating my clients rights _again_?”

 

Chita and Finn came around a corner. Munch smirked and took a step back. “Of course not Miss Chita.” He nodded at his partner.

 

Sam grinned and leaned against the bars. “Yeah, we were just having a nice chat.”

 

Chita frowned and leaned in close to whisper. “You and your brother are in enough trouble without you talking to the detectives.”

 

Sam moved closer. Unnerved, Chita took a step back. Sam smiled reassuringly and whispered back. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” He winked at Munch. “After all, we’ve got an angel on our side.”

 

Finn was confused. He frowned at Munch. The older detective nodded at James Novak. “Castiel, remember?”

 

There was a sigh. Castiel frowned as Dean stirred in his arms.

 

Munch eyed the men curiously as he spoke to the lawyer. “We want to talk to them as soon as possible.”

 

She frowned. “Four in the morning is hardly reasonable.”

 

Fin laughed. “Why? Two of them are already awake.”

 

Chita crossed her arms. “Because you already woke them. I’m going to have to insist that you come back at a more _reasonable_ hour.”

 

“Like when?”

 

“Six at the earliest.”

 

“Six? But that’s only two hours from now. Let’s just do it now.”

 

Sam kicked Dean awake.

 

Dean grumbled. “What?”

 

“Time to face the law.”

 

Dean yawned, stretched, and stole a kiss from his angel. He stumbled over to Sam, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as he blinked wearily at the three standing before him. He frowned at the lawyer. “You should lose the coat, lower the collar and let down your hair.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

He looked at Sam and shrugged. “She could be sexy if she tried.”

 

Sam glared at his brother. “Dean.”

 

“What! I’m not saying she could even hold a candle to Cas, but she could look decent.” He looked back at the lawyer with a smile. “Sorry, honey, but he’s got way prettier eyes than you.”

 

Castiel was instantly behind Dean, his lips pursed. “Dean.”

 

Dean smiled and took Castiel’s hand, running his thumb across his palm. He turned back to the lawyer. “See?”

 

She glowered. “This isn’t funny. You need to take this seriously.”

 

“We are taking it seriously!”

 

She gave up and turned back to the detectives. “Alright, where do you want to do the questioning?”

 

The three men were lead to a room. It had a very open feel, with large bars that looked over a large window covered with a steel mesh.

 

Sam and Dean were anchored to the table. Castiel was given a little more freedom, but not much. His wrist was cuffed to the chair.

 

The door opened, and their lawyer entered. She sat close to them, but she made sure they could not reach her. She cleared her throat. “So, the ADA is going to come in here and try to work a deal. Let me do all the talking, alright?”

 

Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand as the door opened, and a rather beautiful woman entered the room flanked by Benson and Stabler. Dean leered at the new woman. “Well, hi there.”

 

She glared at him.

 

Dean leaned forward. “You know, my brother here is single. And he loves intelligent women.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, seriously?”

 

“What? You need to get laid.”

 

“Bitch.”

 

“Jerk.”

 

Novak opened her file.

 

Chita regarded her carefully. “Let’s talk about a deal.”

 

Dean laughed when Novak’s head tilted familiarly. She glared at him. “I have your clients for man one, assault, grave desecration, corpse mutilation, kidnapping and resisting arrest.” She smirked. “Don’t worry. You won’t be in jail long.” She stood up. “I’m sure you’ll get the needle soon.”

 

“Wait,” Chita called. “What do we need to do to get the death penalty off the table?”

 

Novak considered them. “We’ve got you. There is nothing you can possibly give us.” She gathered up her files and walked to the door. She casually turned back. “Mr. Novak. We have a psych analyst here. We’d love for you to speak to him.”

 

The man looked at her in confusion. “No.”

 

She frowned. Benson took a step forward, smiling reassuringly, her hands tucked in her pockets. “Come talk to him. Maybe he can help you out.”  
  


“I do not need to be helped out.”

 

She leaned in close, aware of the two men watching her. “A lot of people don’t think they need help. But you know talking to Huang won’t hurt anything.”

 

Castiel said nothing, watching her with piercing eyes. She sighed. “You don’t have long to change your mind, James. We want to help you, but you need to help us do that.”

 

Novak smiled as she opened the door. “See you in court.”

 

Sam looked at her curiously. “I have a question.”

 

She paused.

 

Sam face was open and innocent. “What proof do you have of any of this?”

 

Novak hesitated, and then walked out the door, closely tailed by the two detectives.

 

Sam grinned at Dean. “See? Sometimes the legal way works.”

 

\----------

 

Outside the room, they met up with Munch and Fin. Olivia looked at Casey. “What was he talking about?”

 

Casey’s pace increased and her irritation showed on her face. “Sam Winchester.” She turned into the detectives. “Tell me we have proof.”

 

“Proof of what?”

 

“Of them escaping! Tell me you caught it on tape.”

 

Fin frowned. “Well, no.”

 

“What do you mean no? They escaped! Did you turn the cameras off?”

 

“No, we watched all the footage; there is no evidence of the door opening, or of them exiting the station house.”

 

She rounded on Elliot. “Tell me we have the victims.”

 

“Well…”

 

“Well?”

 

“We have the victims, and we caught them in the room with the weapons.”

 

“Good.”

 

“But the victims have been swearing up and down that these men saved them.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Well, we have them on the weapons charge, right?”

 

“No, if the victims won’t incriminate them, and they have the right paperwork than the second amendment protects it.”

 

“What about all the other charges?”

 

“We have no evidence, no pictures, no witnesses, and no victims who will agree to come forward. And what’s worse, Sam Winchester knows it.”

 

Munch smiled hopefully. “We have something, right?”

 

Casey’s fist clenched. “No.”

 

“So…”

 

“So we might need to let them go.”

 

“No!”

 

“Look, it’s called Double Jeopardy! If I take them to court and we _lose_ they can’t be tried for any of this ever again!”

 

“Only if you _lose_.”

 

Casey scowled.

 

Elliot raised an eye brow. “You don’t think you’ll win?”

 

She sighed. “The grave desecration and the corpse mutilation is suspected. No one has been able to tie them to it exactly. I mean, everyone _knows_ it’s them, and they’ve never tried to deny it, but there have never been pictures or physical documentation.”

 

“What about the murders and attempted murders?”

 

“Every time there was a murder, a “Dean” turned up dead.”

 

Fin’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

 

Munch shrugged. “It’s the perfect conspiracy theory. A woman turns up dead, and then Dean’s body shows up at just the right time that the cops are _sure_ the man who did it is this man. Blood comes back positive, teeth match, hell, _bone marrow_ comes back a match, and then another Dean shows up and they race away.”

 

“Did they check the coffin?”

 

“Yep. Body still there.”

 

Casey sighed. “They could argue that because the body is still there obviously _this_ body didn’t do it.”

 

“What about the attempted murders?”

 

“Once again, all the victims say he’s innocent. Look guys, I don’t like it any better than you do, but if we try this case and lose they could never answer for any of this.”

 

“But,” Elliot blew up, “If we let them _go_ we’re putting these monsters back on the street!”

 

Olivia put a hand on his shoulder. “I think she’s right. Boys this bad are bound to screw up again, and hopefully they’ll leave more evidence.”

 

Elliot turned to Casey desperately. “We can still hold them _here_ , right?”

 

Casey nodded. “They still need to post bail, and then they’ll need to stay in the state.”

 

“Good. We’ll camp on them, and nail them as soon as we can, and hopefully save anyone they try to go after.”

 

Off in the back, they saw the three men being escorted back to their cell. They were laughing and joking. They didn’t look worried in the slightest.

 

A few hours later, someone posted their bail. The person’s name was Owen Libositoz. Elliot scowled from behind his news paper in his hiding place. He was dressed in plain clothing and sun glasses.

 

The man who picked them up looked like a trucker. He embraced the boys like they were his sons, and then they drove off, him in a black SUV, and them in their Chevy. He pulled up his sleeve, speaking into a microphone. “They’re on the move, headed your way.”

 

Fin picked up on the other end. “I’ve got them.” He pulled his car into traffic, and stayed a few cars behind, never letting the Impala out of his sight. From the way they were driving, they didn’t know he was back there.

 

As they drove further into the city, traffic began to pick up. Fin did his best to keep track of them, but after twenty minutes they were gone. He picked up his microphone irritably. “I lost them.” He listed off the last intersection where he’d seen them.

 

Cragen nodded. “Benson, Munch, they had to give an address when they posted bail. Go see if we can find them there.”

 

The two detectives nodded as they grabbed their coats.

 

When they got to the address they both groaned in disappointment. The address was for an old concert building with a falling rusted door. They weren’t there.

 

Munch sighed. “I guess we’ll just add this to their list of offenses.”

 

“Great. Just great.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Once again, apologies to those of you who have to read this. Feel free to skip down. Dear Andrew, okay, your review was actually courteous and made me feel a little bad for how harshly I spoke in the last chapter, however again, **in the opening blurb that you read before you click to read it says “established relationship” which means I am writing as though they were in a relationship before the story took place.** I did this because personally, I love the pairing, and because I thought it would be hard to give credit to both Supernatural and SVU if I was trying to include a plot that was all about the subtleties of them falling in love _and_ a plot about the boys interacting with the legal system. If you want to read a story about how they fell in love, I’ve written a few. Feel free to check them out. Considering that when I wrote this it was the only story in the category, and that now it’s still only one of two I know you probably don’t have the option of reading a non-slash story of this nature. Sorry. I wrote this because I wanted to read one and I couldn’t find any. Love, BoundLight

 

To the rest of you! You rock! And you’re the only reason this gets updated! Seriously. And I think all of you know that, all things considered. :D

 

\----------

 

A call came across the wire. The Impala was spotted bearing west, heading out of the city.

 

Elliot jumped into a car with Olivia, Munch joined Fin, and together they raced out.

 

Over the radio they heard Cragen yell. “Hang back! We want them to _leave_ the state before we grab them!”

 

Munch eyed the radio dubiously. “Hey Cap, if they leave the state aren’t they a bit out of our jurisdiction?”

 

Cragen laughed darkly. “Yes, we’ve alerted the proper authorities. They’ll stop them, and hand them off to us, so _hang back_.”

 

Fin glanced at Munch and pushed the pedal to the floor. Elliot noticed them start to pull away, and quickly moved to match.

 

It wasn’t long before a car matching the right description came into sight. The car was shooting towards a tunnel that would take it out of the state. Elliot smirked and glanced at Olivia. “Thank God bad men always give you second chances.”

 

The car was slowing. Gradually it and the black SUV pulled off to the side. They weren’t out of the state yet. Fin growled in frustration.

 

The three boys exited the vehicle, and met with the trucker from the other. They were laughing and joking. It made Elliot’s blood boil.

 

Then the trucker got back into his car and left the state; the boys got back in their car and headed back in.

 

Cautiously the detectives turned around, making sure to keep a lot of distance between themselves and their prey.

 

The Winchester’s drove casually, signaling before every turn, and never rising above the speed limit. It was like they were taunting them. Then they pulled into a motel parking lot. It wasn’t high class, but it wasn’t the roach motel either. With a sigh, Fin called it in.

 

Dean and James waited by the car doing something in the trunk, while the youngest Winchester went to the front office. Sam came back and tossed Dean something. Probably the keys. Dean shoved a large duffle bag into Sam’s arms, and grabbed is own, and together they went to a room on the second floor. Fin shook his head. “What do you think they have in those?”

 

Munch laughed. “Clothes hopefully.”

 

“Hopefully.”

 

Elliot’s phone rang. “Captain.” He listened, occasionally glancing at Olivia. “We’re on it.” He hung up, and picked up the radio. “Okay, we’re going to sit on them, make sure they don’t hurt anyone, and pick them up when they screw up. Who wants the first watch?”

 

Fin and Munch shared a look. Munch picked up the radio and answered. “We’ve got it, but you owe us coffee tomorrow.”

 

\----------

 

They lost the cops easily and were heading out of New York, _finally_. This state was really starting to get on Dean’s nerves. Then Bobby pulled off to the side. Dean followed him; he looked at his brother and his angel, and together they exited the vehicle.

 

Bobby leaned against his car. “Hey, boys.”

 

“What’s up, Bobby?”

 

“I think you three need to stay.”

 

Dean frowned. “Why? These lawyers can shove it. We’ll leave and they won’t be able to find us. I mean, come on. We’ve been on the run for murder for how long?”

 

Sam laughed. “We? Come on Dean, that ones all you. They say I’m brainwashed!”

 

Castiel’s lips tugged up in a small smile. “Yes, I believe I am brainwashed as well. It seems you are the only one in trouble here, Dean.”

 

“Not you too, Cas!”

 

Castiel shrugged at him and joined Sam, shaking his head at the hunter. “You’re just a…” He looked at Sam. Sam smiled encouragingly. “A terrible influence.”

 

Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand, tugging him over and ruffling his hair. “I am _not_ a terrible influence.” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe I am, but I’m _your_ terrible influence.”

 

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Bad influence or not, you’re _all_ idjits. Anyway, the last thing you two need is to be unable to enter a state.”

 

“Come on Bobby, its New York. I think I can safely say we never want to come back.”

 

“Dean, what happens when the job needs us to come back?”

 

“Do you really want to go to court?”

 

Bobby smirked. “I’ve got some idea’s on that. You leave it to me. Go on back and get a motel. Your court date is only a few weeks away.” He winked. “You kids could use a vacation.”

 

Sam grinned. “Besides, we’ll win!”

 

As they bid Bobby farewell, and turned back to the Impala.

 

As he walked around the side, Dean started to hum. “Too bad we’ve got that pretty lawyer lady Sammy, otherwise you’d be able to show us all what you learned at Stanford. Oh! I know! At the end you can stand up all dramatically and shout ‘I Object!’” Dean closed the door with a bang. “And then Cas’n I’ll cheer and the judge’ll think we’re all insane.” He started the engine. “And then some fucking TV writer will decide that’d make a good movie, and we’ll get paid for influencing it.”

 

Sam stared at him silently. “How are we related again?”

 

After they watched Bobby pull away, they carefully maneuvered so they were heading back into the state. Dean glanced behind them. “Christ, are those cops following us again?”

 

Castiel looked back, his eyes narrowed. “Yes. They are very angry we’re not running.”

 

Dean laughed. “Fine. Let’s give them something to be angry about.”

 

The Impala slowed until it was going exactly the speed limit. He obeyed every traffic law, even signaling every single turn he made. When the game got boring he decided to find a motel. Since they were going to be staying there for longer than usual he decided to find a more upscale place. He pulled into a parking place and smiled at Sam. “Go get us a room, bitch.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes and got out of the car.

 

Dean got out and stretched his legs before leaning back against the Impala. Castiel joined him. They both watched the detectives.

 

“Those guys are really starting to aggravate me.”

 

“They are only doing their job, Dean.”

 

“What, it’s their job to be aggravating?”

 

Castiel smiled. “No. They are only doing what they think is best. They’re a lot like you.”

 

Dean scoffed. “Me?”

 

“They do a job many hate them for, a difficult job that requires them to deal with dark people. They do not do it for praise, but because it is the right thing to do, and no one else will do it. Can you not see the similarities?”

 

Dean fidgeted and pushed away from the car, moving around to the trunk. “Yeah, well. They’re wasting their time on us. They could be out their helping people, but instead they’re watching the good guys pack up a trunk. Hey, help me out here.”

 

Castiel joined Dean, and together they started shoving guns into two duffel bags. “They don’t know you and Sam are the good guys. They are simply afraid of what they do not understand.”

 

Dean scowled, and glanced back at the detectives. It was really hard to stay mad when he looked at it that way.

 

Sam was walking towards them; he tossed Dean the keys.

 

“Fine. Let’s play nice.

 

They shouldered the bags, and found their room. Dean twitched aside the blinds and watched the detectives watch them. Sam joined him. “What are you thinking?”

 

Dean grinned. “I think we should buy our nice officer friends dinner.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah. That’s intelligent. Maybe we should just pretend we don’t know they’re there.”

 

“Where’s the fun in that?”

 

“Dude, if we let on that we know, they’ll just think of sneakier ways of following us. They’ll try to put bugs or cameras in the rooms, or who knows what else.”

 

“Psh. We’ll just have Cas let loose a little angelic awesomeness and kill all the electronics in a few miles radius.”

 

Sam glared. “Yeah, and that’ll kill the TV, the phones and my computer as well.”

 

Dean went over to a bed and flopped down. “Fine, not screwing with the cops then. Ruin all my fun why don’t you?” He tucked his hands behind his head with a sigh. “I drove all day it’s your turn to get dinner.”

 

Sam grabbed the keys with a huff and walked out the door. As soon as it closed Castiel moved to join Dean on the bed. The hunter grinned, tucking Cas against him and grabbed the remote, quickly finding an episode of Doctor Sexy M.D.

 

Maybe a vacation wasn’t such a bad thing.

 

\----------

 

They watched the motel. Sam Winchester left and came back with a bag of food, and then the room was quiet. The next morning James left when the sun kissed the sky, and returned quickly with what could only be coffee.

 

Once the sun had risen a bit, a knock came on their window. Munch rolled it down. Olivia and Elliot handed them two steaming cups. “How are our boys doing?”

 

Fin rubbed his eyes. “Quiet as the grave.”

 

“That sounds ominous.”

 

“If I haven’t seen them doing something, they’re probably just getting ready for something worse.”

 

“Well, you’re not going to get the chance to find out.” Olivia winked. “Our turn.”

 

Munch grinned. “All yours.”

 

Fin put the car into gear and drove off. Elliot pulled his car up, and killed the engine.

 

When they returned to the office, Fin and Munch grabbed a few hours of sleep, and then returned to their desk. Large boxes covered it, and spilled over onto Elliot and Olivia’s. First they sorted threw all of the cases, putting them in order, and placing pictures of the cases on a large glass wall. Then they found the victim list.

 

Munch sighed, straightening his papers. “I’ll start at the top, you start at the bottom, we’ll meet in the middle. Sound good?”

 

With a fresh pot of coffee brewing they got started gathering witnesses for the trial.

 

An hour later the frustration was palpable.

 

“Hello, I’m calling about a case a few years ago involving the Winchesters. Yes, we were wondering if you’d be willing to come in and testify about your experien –” Fin sighed and hung up the phone. “You know, I’m starting to get really annoyed by all these hang ups.”

 

“At least yours are hanging up on you, most of mine want to know why we’d want to harass these _nice young men_.”

 

“Yeah? Those of mine who don’t hang up want to know how the boys are doing, and if they need any help.”

 

“If _they_ need help?”

 

“Oh yeah.”

 

“Fantastic.”

 

Soon the time to trade out came again. This time Elliot and Fin were left to guard the house. Munch was sent to research the cases for any hints to explain the victim’s attitudes. Olivia manned the phones. She thought she’d have a better shot at getting someone to agree to come in.

 

Elliot shifted positions for the twentieth time in fifteen minutes. Fin glared at him. Elliot sighed and was about to say something when the door opened. The three men trooped down the steps. They paused at the car, talking briefly, and then walked off down the street.

 

Fin raised an eyebrow, putting the car into gear, and slowly following. The boys walked a short way into town, and entered a small bar. They watched the door for a while, before Elliot said, “I think we should go in; they could easily just go out the back.”

 

Fin nodded, and together they went in.

 

Sam, Dean, and James sat at a small booth near the back. Elliot and Fin found a table obscured by shadows. They grabbed drinks to blend in and watched.

 

The three men drank roughly the same amount of alcohol, but it was clearly affecting Sam and Dean much more than James. No matter how much he drank, he sat rigidly at the table, his intense eyes never leaving the brothers. Then Dean suggested something, and they headed over to a pool table.

 

James sat on a stool near enough to watch, as the brothers stumbled, playing with the cues and missing almost every shot. Dean flirted shamelessly with every girl who passed by.

 

Then two smirking men approached them and another game started. Surprisingly Sam and Dean won easily. And again. And a third time.

 

The two men were very angry.

 

They were still drinking heavily, and Elliot started to notice that the more Dean drank the more he seemed to gravitate towards James, and the longer his touches seemed to last. During their fourth game, Dean hit a particularly hard shot, and immediately strode over to James and kissed him firmly.

 

One of the men glowered darkly.

 

Sam and Dean won again, collected their money and then joined James. They were about to head out when the man behind them shouted something. Fin saw a knife in his hand and stood up abruptly, grabbing Elliot as he rose. They drew their guns, and sprinted towards them.

 

Almost in slow motion they watched as the man lunged at Dean.

 

In the blink of an eye James was in front of him blocking the blow. The knife sank deeply into his stomach. James grabbed the man’s wrist with one hand, and was reaching for his forehead with the other when Elliot snatched the man away, pinning him to a wall. Fin quickly grabbed James, his hand moving to apply pressure as he called for a bus.

 

Fin froze. There was no wound. James was watching him oddly as he touched the bloody shirt, a jagged hole in the middle, and then the smooth skin beneath it.

 

Dean swore and grabbed James by the neck, tugging his head down. He whispered sharply, “Pretend you’re unconscious, Cas.”

 

James went limp in Dean’s arms. Dean nodded at Sam and turned to Fin and gestured forward with his head. Behind them the other patrons of the bar were whispering and panicking. Fin wasn’t sure what was going on, but he was sure the Winchester’s were about to disappear, so he did the only logical thing. He held up his badge. “It’s okay people, NYPD. Just back up, we’ll take care of this.” Elliot was looking at him, one eyebrow raised. “Cuff him, let’s go.” Elliot snapped the cuffs on the man, and Fin walked over to Dean, making a show of carrying James out of the bar. Sam followed close behind.

 

James regained his footing as soon as the door closed, and the three men stood with them outside the bar as they waited for a police car to show up. Fin and Elliot explained what happened to the arriving officers and handed off the would-be killer. Then they rounded on Winchester’s.

 

Sam and Dean looked completely sober. They were having a hushed conversation, and kept glancing at the detectives.

 

“Damn it, Dean we can’t –”

 

“Well Princess if you have a better idea I’d _love_ to –”

 

“It’s not an _idea_ dude, it’s _insane._ What do you think they’re going to _say_?!”

 

“I couldn't give a flying fuck! It was _your_ idea to let them follow us, it was _bound_ to happen _eventually_!”

 

Elliot leaned in close to Fin. “What happened with James?”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, he went from being filleted to breathing on his own in a matter of seconds. Did we miss something?”

 

“I think our lovely guests will be explaining that shortly.”

 

Elliot snorted. “Great. Just what I wanted. Private conversations with the killers.”

 

James was frowning at them while the boys continued to argue. “My name is not James.”

 

The conversation stopped.

 

Dean tugged on James’s arm until he turned to face him. Dean glanced at the detectives and then smiled. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” They started to walk down the street.

 

Sam grinned awkwardly at Fin and Elliot. “We know you’ve been following us for a while, and we know you probably have, well, a _lot_ of questions about what just happened. So, how ‘bout you move your car back to the motel, and we’ll just have a talk, eh?”

 

Dean glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, no offense but none of us really want to ride in a car with you for a _while_.”

 

Sam nodded. “See you in a bit then.” He turned, and ran a few feet to catch up with his partners.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

The detectives returned to their car, but they did not shoot ahead to the motel. 

Dean groaned as the car drove slowly behind them, its lights following their every move. “Jesus Christ, could they be any more obvious? I mean, imagine we really were bad guys here, do they think we wouldn’t notice?”

Castiel grabbed his hand. “Perhaps they do not strive for discretion because they know we are already aware of their presence.” 

Sam bit his lip. “Yeah, about that. How are we explaining what just happened?”

They walked in silence for a moment. Dean grinned sheepishly. “I was hoping you’d have some thoughts on that Mr. Stanford.” 

Sam glared. “I wasn’t the one who blew our cover in there.”

“Geeze, you sound like such a girl.”

“Shut up, jerk. Just because I care about the police officers following us does not make me a girl.”

“You’re right, but you whining about it does.” Dean hummed. “I think we should just tell them the truth.”

“Oh. Great. That’s a fabulous idea. You went to high school, right?”

“Oh come on. What, worst case? They think we’re insane, and that doesn’t really hurt our cause at all.”

“Right and best case they just think we’re fucking with them.”

Dean grinned. “But no matter what it’ll make them think. It’ll bring doubt into their circle. Every time they look at us they’ll wonder if it’s true. Hell, every time they look at Cas they’ll wonder if it’s true. ‘How could he have been stabbed and not have a wound?’ they’ll ask. It’ll be great.”

Sam laughed. “That’s terrible.”

“It’d be funny.” 

They walked slowly and casually back to the motel, occasionally stopping to shove each other or kick a can, or just screw around. Even if they were trying to play nice with the boys in blue, Dean couldn’t help but get on their nerves and be just a little petulant. After all, it was their fault they had to stay in one place for a few weeks. It made every bone in Dean’s body itch. Finally Dean grabbed Castiel’s shoulder tightly and pushed him up against a wall. He leaned forward and growled. “Take that fiend!” 

Sam doubled over laughing.

Castiel’s head fell to the side. “I believe you drank too much, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed, but his hands kept Castiel pinned. “That’s as may be but…”

Someone behind them cleared their throat. All three men looked. Fin grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled him back. Dean batted his hand away. 

Fin shoved Dean in front of him, his other hand grabbing Castiel’s coat and pulling him along as well. “Let’s pick up the pace. Now.”

Fin proceeded to march the three down the street. 

Dean frowned at Sam. His little brother grinned sarcastically and grabbed Castiel. “My angel now, loser!” 

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Sam. “You drank too much as well.”

Sam sighed and wrapped an arm around Castiel’s shoulders. “Probably.” He grinned. “Not all of us can hold our alcohol as well as you can.” 

Dean was glaring daggers at Sam. He moved forward, but Fin pressed a hand to his chest and pushed him back. “Keep moving.”

Dean scowled. “And you guys wonder why no one likes you.”

Fin scowled. “It’s not my job to make criminals like me.”

Castiel’s head tilted. “We are not criminals.”

Sam laughed brightly, and his arm tightened its hold. “That depends on your definition I suppose.”

Dean frowned. He pointed a warning finger at his brother. “Sam.”

“You’re the one who said honesty, jerk.” 

“I meant when we were back in the room, bitch.” He glanced over at Castiel, and he bristled. “Give him back!”

“Finders keepers.” 

“Sam.”

“Oh fine.”

Castiel drifted over to Dean’s side. Fin glared, but did not interfere, if the kid wanted to make his own mistakes fine, but he kept a strict eye on Dean all the same. However, now that Dean had his prize he made no trouble as they finished their walk down the street. 

When they got to the motel, Sam paused and looked at the officer sheepishly. “I suppose you should go grab your partner.”

Dean winked. “Yeah, you know we won’t be going anywhere.”

Fin glared. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Well, legally you can’t enter our room without permission or a warrant.” 

“Technically this isn’t your home.”

“Fine, either get a key from the management or go get your partner and be our guest. Your call.” Sam turned, and the three entered their room, closing the door with a bang.

Fin’s lip twitched upward in a snarl, but he turned and walked over to the car. Elliot gave him a questioning look. Fin crossed his arms and leaned against the vehicle. “They’re hiding something.”

“Of course they are.” Elliot stepped out of the car. “But if we’re their guests we can just happen to find it.” He adjusted his jacket. “You know, if we’d had good foresight, we would have brought microphones.”

Fin smirked. “Maybe next time.”

They quickly mounted the steps. Through the door they could hear shuffling. Dean was swearing, and Sam was professing his innocence. Elliot shook his head, his hand poised to knock. “What do you think happened with James?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Do you think they staged it?”

“If Dean had stabbed him I’d agree completely.”

“Let’s get Munch and Olivia down to county and see if they can get that guy to open up.” He pulled out his phone and quickly called it in. Then he knocked. 

Instantly all the noise on the other side of the door stopped. They heard a muffled voice. “You get it.”

“What? No! You get it!”

There was a grumble, a few loud noises, and then someone grabbed the door knob. It rattled, and Sam opened the door, his hair mused into disarray. Behind him the beds looked liked like hell and a chair was overturned. Dean was sitting on his bed looking at the door innocently. Castiel stood in the center of the room watching them intently. 

Sam cleared his throat. “Hello officers! Won’t you please come in?” 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Laying it on a little thick there, princess?”

Sam glared, and opened the door wider. 

Elliot and Fin stepped in cautiously, well aware that they were entering the den of known killers. 

Sam closed the door securely behind them and Dean stopped them at the threshold. He smiled thinly. “Are you guys wearing a wire?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Watchin’ a few to many gangster movies there, Dean?”

Dean glared at him. “Shut up, bitch!”

“Now that is a sound argument.”

For a moment he looked angrily at his brother then a slow smile spread across his face. “Alright Sammy, fine. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Dean nodded politely at the officers and joined Cas on his bed. Sam rolled his eyes, and took his place. He put on a smile. “We are very happy to have you join us! Would you like to sit down?”

Dean groaned loudly.

Sam resisted the urge to throw something. “Anyway, we thought it was time we had a talk.”

Elliot smiled maliciously. “Don’t you think you should have your lawyer present?”

“Why?”

Fin stepped closer. “We would just like to make it clear that anything you say here will be on the record.”

Dean laughed. “Didn’t you guys do any research on us at all? You do know that Sammy here went to law school, right?”

Elliot glared at Dean. “We just don’t want you to protest this being entered as evidence.”

Dean smirked and lay back, draping an arm over his eyes. He tugged on Castiel’s sleeve. “You shouldn’t let me drink so much.”

A small smile graced Castiel’s face. 

Sam cleared his throat. “Right. So.” There was a large pause. “Damn it, Dean. What the hell am I supposed to say?”

Another pause. Dean pushed himself up with a frown. “I have no idea.” The stared at each other, then Dean’s face brightened. “Cas!” 

The angel watched him in confusion. “Yes, Dean?” 

Dean grinned at the officers. “He sucks at lying anyway.” He turned back to Castiel. “Alright Cas, go tell these…nice officers… about us.”

Sam moved to the bed, pulling Cas to his feet before stealing his spot. “Go on, Cas. It’s all you.”

Castiel stood before the two detectives, his face betraying his uncertainty. He glanced at the brothers. Sam shot him a thumbs up. He turned back to the officers. “Um.” 

From the bed they heard Dean laugh. “Start with who you are.”

“My name is Castiel.”

Another laugh. “I meant what you are, Cas.”

“I am an angel of the lord.”

Elliot and Fin stared at him. Finally Elliot rolled his eyes. “If you guys are just trying to lay some ground work for your insanity plea, we have better things to do.”

Dean sighed and pushed himself up, walking over to the angel. “Cas, why don’t you get us some coffee? It’s going to be a long night.”

Castiel smiled, and vanished. 

The officer’s eyes went wide.

Sam walked over with a grin. “You should see what else he can do.”

Castiel appeared between them, a tray with four coffee’s in his hands. Sam and Dean took theirs, drinking deeply as the officer’s stared at the cups in shock. Sam laughed, bringing them back to the moment. “It’s not poisoned you know.” 

They reached out and took their cups; they tried to hide the small tremor running through their hands. Fin drank his hesitantly. It was actually rather good. 

Fin set his cup down, and eyed Castiel hesitantly. “What exactly did you want to tell us?”

As the night progressed, they ended up sitting around the room’s small table, listening as the Winchester’s explained ghosts, sprites, angels, and demons, and their role in hunting them down. 

Dean was right; it was going to be a long night. 

When the sun began to rise, and they knew their replacements were coming, Elliot and Fin went back out to their car. They sat in silence, neither knowing what to say. When the knock came at their window, they traded places without comment, and headed back to the station in silence.


	7. Chapter 7

Elliot and Fin sat quietly in the office, looking everywhere but each other. Occasionally their eyes would meet and they’d both think, “Yes. That just happened” and then look away just as quickly.

 

They sat in silence until the sun glinted warmly off their desks; they looked up when Benson and Munch walked in. Elliot cleared his throat, leaning back in his chair, doing his best to appear nonchalant. “Did you find out anything about that guy in county?”

 

Benson tossed a small file on to her desk as she sat down. “Yeah, his name's George Manson. He’s never been in the same state let alone the same city as the Winchester’s before. Looks like this is just your standard case of drunken homophobia.”

 

Fin worried his lip distractedly. “We should keep an eye on him anyway; see if he tries to contact them.”

 

Munch looked at his partner curiously. “Is there a reason why we think this was a conspiracy?”

 

Elliot and Fin shared a look. What could they say? That they saw Ja – no, Castiel, _Castiel_ get stabbed? That they watched the knife enter him in one swift motion? That they saw the bloody fabric? That there’d been _no wound_? That they’d gone back and talked to the boys and found out they hunted monsters for a living? Yeah. No. They sat in silence, well aware of the looks their partners were giving them.

 

Slowly Munch’s eyebrows rose. “O…kay.”

 

Fin shot a glance at Elliot before looking up at Olivia and Munch. “What if… what if they really didn’t do any of the things these files say they did?”

 

Benson laughed. “What, like ghosts really exist? Like they really fight monsters?” She shook her head. “Tell me you aren’t serious.”

 

Fin forced a smirk. “No, of course not.” He rose quickly. “Anyone else want some coffee?” He took off before his fellow detectives could answer. He felt his partner’s eyes on his back, the older man clearly not buying it.

 

Fin did his best to ignore it and busied himself with the coffee maker.

 

Munch sidled up beside him. “Tell me the truth, Fin. Why do you suddenly believe them?”

 

Fin kept his eyes upon the task at hand. “I don’t.”

 

Munch smirked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter. “Liar.”

 

Fin sighed. “I don’t believe in that supernatural crap, Munch, you know that.”

 

He risked a glance up at his partner and noticed the older man’s eyes had softened. “It’s okay to believe, Fin.”

 

Fin could only star as Munch reached around him and poured himself a cup of coffee. He raised his cup. “You can always talk to me Fin. It’s what partners are for.” He turned and walked back to the others.

 

\----------

 

Dean lay back against his bed. “Damn it, Sam” he whined, “How long do we have to stay here?”

 

Sam rolled his eyes from behind his computer monitor. “We can’t pull cases while we’ve got a tail, Dean. Besides, it’s only to the end of the week. Then we’ll either be free men, or we’ll be in jail. Again.”

 

Dean sighed, crossing his arms behind his head. “I always look forward to being a jail bird.”

 

There was a flutter of wings and Castiel appeared in the middle of the room holding three white bags. Dean leapt to his feet happily. “Food!”

 

Castiel placed the bags on the table in the small kitchen nook.

 

The second he stepped back Dean dug into two of the bags, pulling out a few burgers, fries and a small plastic container.

 

“A salad, Sammy? Really? We might be going to prison soon and in your last days as a free man you’re going to be eating a _salad_?”

 

Sam made a face. “Just because you don’t care about atherosclerosis doesn’t mean I don’t.”

 

“Athero what?”

 

Sam sighed. “Clogged arteries?”

 

Dean unwrapped a burger and took a large bite. “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

 

Dean’s eyes fell on the third bag and then moved across the table. Two burgers, check. Fries, check. Salad, check. Everything was accounted for.

 

He licked his lips distractedly. “Hey, Cas, what’s with the third bag?”

 

Castiel smiled faintly. “Sam had an idea.”

 

Sam grinned, his fork stabbing a small tomato. “Thought our boys in blue might be hungry.”

 

Dean paused. “You two wasted our money buying the _enemy_ food?”

 

Castiel’s head fell to the side. “Technically the food was not purchased using our money.”

 

Dean scowled. “We worked hard defrauding those credit cards!”

 

Sam smirked. “Oh, the work of a crook.”

 

Dean glared at him. “Well, genius, I guess you’re the one delivering the food, right?”

 

“No, I thought Castiel might be a good candidate. I think he’s kind of… neutral in their books.”

 

“He’s not _neutral_ , he’s a damn _victim_ in their books.”

 

Sam shrugged. “Hopefully not any more.”

 

Dean shook his head. “I really doubt those cops went back and told the rest our story.”

 

“Well, we can always wait and then give our new _friends_ the food.”

 

“By the time it’s their shift again, the food’ll be cold.”

 

“Dean, I think you’re forgetting we’ve got our own walking, talking microwave.”

 

Dean threw his hands up in defeat, and they finished their meal in relative silence. After they disposed of their waste, Sam shoved the third bag into the fridge.

 

He sighed when Dean stood up and began pacing the room. Castiel watched the hunter from his perch on the bed. Sam contemplated throwing something at his brother. “Dean, you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet.”

 

Dean opened his mouth to reply when his cell phone rang. Dean smiled at the caller ID and answered. “Hey, Bobby... Yeah, we’re fine… Oh, do they? Yeah, we’d love to. Bye.”

 

Dean hung up and grinned at Sam. “Looks like those kids at the orphanage want to speak with us.”

 

Sam groaned. “This is a bad idea, Dean.”

 

Dean laughed and grabbed his keys. “It’s a better idea than going insane in this damn room. We’re going!”

 

“And our tail?”

 

Dean snorted. “Screw them. They can follow if they want. Let’s go.”

 

\----------

 

The team was busy running through a working list of victims when the call came in. The Winchester’s were on the move.

 

Cragen appeared in the doorway of his office. “I want you to wait until they’ve stopped, then close in on the location. I don’t want you all trailing them and giving us away.”

 

“Yes, captain.” The detectives dutifully responded before rushing to their cars to await orders to move.

 

They were shocked when the call came down.

 

Olivia looked at Elliot. “The orphanage? They went back to the _orphanage_? Are they trying to intimidate those kids or something?”

 

“I doubt it. They all swore up and down that those boys are heroes.”

 

“But why else would they go back?”

 

Elliot turned the key in the ignition. “Let’s find out.”

 

They didn’t run their sirens. They didn’t want to give the Winchester’s any notice of their arrival. They parked their cars a little down from the building, hoping to catch the boys by surprise. Cautiously Olivia and Munch circled around to the back, while Elliot and Fin walked up to the front entrance. Elliot stood just to the side of the door while Fin knocked.

 

From within they heard a shriek.

 

Fin kicked the door open, and he and Elliot rushed inside, weapons drawn.

 

The main floor was empty. They circled around to the stairs, and were about to go up when they heard the scream again. It was definitely coming from outside. They quickly ran out the back door.

 

“Freeze!”

 

\----------

 

They drove sedately towards the orphanage, making sure they didn’t lose their tail. Dean grinned as Castiel watched the officers watch them, his eyes narrowed, a frown tugging at his lips.

 

Sam glared at him from his corner of the car. “This is a bad idea, Dean.”

 

“Hey, they _asked_ to see us!”

 

“Yeah, and now the cops probably think we’re going over there to make sure they don’t testify in court.”

 

“Well that’s their problem isn’t it? It’s not like that’s _actually_ what we’re doing.”

 

“It doesn’t matter, Dean. That’s what it will look like _in court_.”

 

“Come on, Sammy! Remember your law school? Innocent until proven guilty?”

 

Sam glared. “That’s the way it _should_ be, but the reality is that you’re innocent until the jury makes up its mind. And if the cops say we were intimidating the witnesses, it doesn’t matter if they can prove it; the idea alone will make the jury think it’s true.”

 

Dean frowned and looked out at the road.

 

Castiel broke his gaze from the car behind them and caught Dean’s eye in the rearview mirror. “You must have faith.”

 

Dean couldn’t help the smile as he shook his head. “I doubt God’ll intervene on this one, Cas.”

 

Dean parked in front of the old building, and was quickly greeted by a man he recognized from the hunt. Dean grinned and shook his hand. “I’m sure you know this already, but I’m Dean, this is my brother Sam, and this is Cas.”

 

The man nodded and shook each of their hands. “I know we were a little… busy the last time we met, but my name is Brandon.” He smiled, “The kids are so excited you’re coming. They’ve been up all night getting ready.”

 

“Getting ready for what?” Sam asked.

 

“Well, let’s just say they wanted to express their gratitude. Come on in!” Brandon turned and led the way back into the large building. Sam and Dean exchanged a puzzled look and followed.

 

As soon as they crossed the threshold they were bombarded by small children waving bits of paper.

 

Castiel looked at the children in confusion as Sam and Dean accepted the papers. Each held a crayon picture of Sam and Dean fighting the ghost, or pouring salt, or just standing holding their guns. Dean laughed. “This is so awesome.”

 

A few children pushed passed the brothers and approached Castiel, pressing the papers into his hands. These pictures depicted him surrounded by children, and many showed his wings spread out and shielding them. Castiel smiled. “Thank you.”

 

The children beamed.

 

A few of the bolder children latched on to Castiel’s coat and began pulling him towards the back door. Sam gently took the pictures from Castiel’s hands. “Go on and play, Cas.”

 

“Yeah!” The children shouted happily, “Come play!”

 

A little reluctantly Cas followed them out the door, glancing back to see the brothers walking towards him a little slower, taking the time to talk to the adults.

 

As they walked Brandon introduced his coworkers; Molly, Natasha, and Joe. They sat together on the back porch and watched the children play with their newest friend; they seemed to be teaching him how to play tag. Castiel didn’t get the concept and merely watched as the children ran close before quickly darting away, laughing loudly.

 

Finally Dean shouted from the porch. “The point is to tag one of them!”

 

“What is the purpose of tagging one of the children? Isn’t the point not to be it?”

 

“Exactly, Cas. _You_ don’t want to be it either.”

 

“But if it’s bad being it than I should not force it on the children.”

 

“It’s just a _game_ , Cas. Nothing bad happens if you’re it.”

 

“Then why should I mind being it?”

 

Dean rolled his eyes dramatically, and winked at Sam. “Well, if you’re saying that the big, tough angel of the lord is incapable of tagging a small human child I guess that’s alright. We should really find a better guardian though, I mean, if this one can’t even catch a kid, what help is he supposed to be in the war on –”

 

Cas disappeared and reappeared right in front of one of the children, pushing a soft finger to his chest. “You are it.”

 

The child pouted. “That’s cheating.”

 

Another child ran up. “Yeah, you can’t fly!”

 

Dean looked at Sam sharply. “How did they know he was _flying_.”

 

Sam stared pointedly. “Cause they can _see_ his wings.”

 

“Oh. Right.”

 

Back in the yard the children had halted the game to explain the new rules regarding the angel’s abilities. They finally decided Castiel could use _none_ of his powers. The angel tried to plead his case to the brothers, but they refused to intervene. Though Castiel would never admit it, Dean could almost swear his angel pouted.

 

When they resumed the game, Castiel leapt after the kids like a hawk, his coat flying out behind him as he gave chase. The children shrieked with laughter, and the adults watching couldn’t help but smile.

 

The smile was wiped from the hunters faces as they noticed two figures sneaking into the back yard, their guns occasionally catching the sunlight.

 

Sam and Dean stood, each reaching for their own weapons when the door behind them burst open and two men with guns appeared shouting, “Freeze!”

 

The hunters reacted instinctively, and both had their weapons trained on the heads of their surprise visitors. It took a moment for them to realize the new men were cops. As one they glanced at the other two who had been sneaking around the side of the house. They held up badges.

 

Dean closed his eyes. “Fuck.” The brothers lowered their weapons, raising their hands placating.

 

Elliot and Fin were in front of them instantly, confiscating their guns and forcing them up against the wall, quickly frisking them for any other weapon, and then handcuffing them. Dean looked over his shoulder and watched as the other two officers treated Cas the same, Munch quickly moving the kids behind him protectively before helping the woman, Olivia his mind supplied, shove Castiel to the ground. Dean was happy the angel allowed this treatment instead of standing by impassively.

 

Behind them Brandon raged furiously. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

 

Elliot pulled Sam off the wall and started walking him through the door. “They brandished weapons at officers of the law.”

 

“Because they thought you were criminals coming to kill us! They are our guests; they have every right to be here!”

 

“I’m sorry, sir, but we need to take them to the station. If these guns are registered and they had permission to be here I’m sure they will be released, but for now they need to come with us.”

 

Natasha fumed as Castiel was dragged up the steps. “This is an abuse of power. You people are the trespassers here, not them.”

 

Munch adjusted his hold on Castiel. “I’m sorry ma’am, our hands are tied.”

 

Dean laughed, unamused. “No, _we’re_ the ones with our hands tied. How’re you boys liking stalking, by the way?”

 

Fin tightened his hold on Dean’s collar. “It’s called prevention. Wouldn’t want you boys to go out and torture more innocent people, now would we?”

 

Dean grinned cheekily. “You’re the one harassing innocent people, not us, _sir_.”

 

Fin was sorely tempted to smack the man in his grasp. He settled for forcing him in the back of a police car a little rougher than usual. “I sure hope you boys _registered_ those guns. But somehow, I doubt it.”

 

Dean scowled, and quickly scooted over as Sam was pushed in beside him. He watched as Castiel was shoved into the car behind them. He glared at Sam. “See? Cops are all the same.”

 

Sam frowned at him. “You were the one who wanted to come back here.”

 

A thoughtful expression crossed Dean’s face. “I hope they give us those pictures back.”

 

Sam shook his head, and both brothers looked out the window to watch the children wave goodbye as the squad car rolled away.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Casey stormed into the station, livid. The door slammed shut behind her. 

Olivia leaned back in her chair. “What’s up, Casey?”

The ADA slammed a thick file down on an empty desk. “I can’t believe this!”

Elliot shot his partner a confused look. “What’s wrong?”

“The Winchester’s lawyer just submitted her list of witnesses.”

“How is that a problem? Is she trying to get them out of holding?”

Casey laughed shortly. “Oh no. She’s more than happy to leave them there after their little escape last time. No, the problem is this list.”

Munch raised an eyebrow incredulously. “I’m failing to see the problem.” 

Casey whipped the file off the desk and pulled out a sheet. “Their lawyer submitted a list that consists of almost everyone we looked into.”

“But those people said they didn’t want to testify.”

“Apparently they were willing, just not for us.” 

Munch put up his hands slowly. “It’s alright, Casey. Calm down.”

“No, you don’t understand. We need to win this case. They can't go free again!”

Munch snorted. “What has the world come to when even the murders have rights?”

Fin smacked his partner’s arm. “It’s going to be okay, Casey. You’re the best out there, you’ll do fine.”

\----------

Dean groaned and threw himself down onto the small bed. “I can’t believe they took that gun! It was my favorite!” 

Sam laughed from where he stood by the door. “After all of this, that’s what you’re upset about? You were going stir crazy in a motel room, how’re you going to be in here?”

Dean pushed himself up with a cocky grin. “Oh, is my little Sammy worried I’ll be insufferable?”

“Yes.”

“Ish my wittle Sammy-kins gowing to cwy like a wittle baby gwrl?”

“Dean –” Sam took a menacing step forward.

“Dean.” Castiel locked eyes with Dean. “When Sam hurts you, I will do nothing to sooth your pain or heal your bruises.” 

Dean stared in shock as Sam grinned victoriously. Finally he dropped his eyes with a sigh. “How long do we have here?”

“Two days.”

“Great. Just great.” Dean threw his arms over his eyes, and lay silently for a moment. Then he took a deep breath. “This is the song that never ends, and it goes on and on my friends –” 

Sam jumped for Dean’s throat.

Dean dodged. Maybe being locked in here wouldn’t be so boring after all.

\----------

When the day of their trial came, both of the brother’s were easily handcuffed. It took a little coaxing for Castiel to allow the officer’s to snap his set on, but Dean could be surprisingly convincing. After hearing the elder Winchester’s argument all of the officers avoided each other’s eyes; none of them wanted to consider if it was actually possible for the small man to snap the metal cuffs off without any effort.

Sam, Dean and Castiel were brought into the court house under heavy surveillance. Snipers lined every roof and an armed guard had them completely surrounded as they were escorted to the appropriate room. 

Once inside they were each seated at a long wooden table; their legs were free, but their hands remained bound in front of them. The officers made it clear to each man that a gun would be trained on them at all times should they like to do anything…funny. 

When the room was secured other people were allowed in. 

Their lawyer came in first. She sat down beside them. Chita seemed confident, but Sam saw a hint of fear in her eyes. He smirked and leaned close to her. “That worried about our case?”

She glanced up and smiled firmly. “No.”

Sam nodded sagely. “So it’s just sitting there that’s got you nervous.” He winked. “I promise we will never do anything to harm you.”

That seemed to relax her marginally. Then Dean leaned over his brother’s lap; she jumped. “Aren’t you supposed to think we’re innocent?”

Chita’s gaze hardened. “Mr. Winchester, I can assure you that I will do my best to win this case.”

Dean put his hands up as placating as he could in handcuffs. “Of course, of course.” He turned with a smirk to Castiel. “What does she really think.”

Castiel’s gaze slid from Dean’s to the lawyers. After a moment he looked at Dean seriously. “She is worried that our witnesses will sound insane.”

Chita’s eyebrows flew up. “No! No! I-I don’t think that at all!”

Sam and Dean laughed. 

“You boys causing trouble over here?”

“Bobby!” 

Bobby grinned from behind the wooden barrier. “How’re you boys holding up in state custody?”

Sam shrugged. “The cell was pretty clean.”

Dean winked at Chita. “The company’s pretty hot.” He smiled at Castiel. “And the cell’s got great company.” He sighed dramatically. “Now if only Sammy had a separate room at night.”

Sam glared. “Life is not a porno, Dean. Your prison fantasies aren’t going to magically come true.”

“When life hands you a golden opportunity and you pass it up ‘cause your brother’s a little squeamish, you’re right, they won’t.”

“I don’t want to watch you have sex, Dean!”

“You could have turned around!”

“I don’t want to listen to you have sex either!” Sam pointedly turned back to Bobby. “What have you been up to?”

“Findin’ as many people you boys have helped as I could.”

Someone behind him laughed. “My my, is that Bobby Singer?”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Decon?”

A woman walked up beside him.

Sam gasped. “Detective Diana Ballard. What are you two doing here?”

Decon grinned. “Bobby here gave us a call and said you were in trouble.”

Diana nodded. “We figured we owed you.”

Dean frowned. “But you’re both officers. Won’t you get in trouble for this?”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “You could be fired. We don’t want you to lose your jobs.”

“Listen, son.” Decon turned serious. “You boys save so many people, it’s about time we returned the favor.”

Diana leaned forward and touched Dean’s arm. “Good luck out there.” She nodded to Sam and moved to take a seat. 

Decon followed.

A second later another man took their place. 

“Hello Sam. Hello Dean.” He turned to Castiel and paused. “My son…”

Sam shook his head in disbelief. “Hey Father Reynolds.”

The priest stared at Castiel in shock.

Dean smirked. “Padre, let me introduce you to a real angel. This is Castiel.” He bumped his shoulder into Castiel. “Cas, this is Father Reynolds. He helped us put another priest to rest.”

Father Reynolds swallowed and nodded, eyes wide. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered. 

Sam looked at him in interest. “What does he look like, Father?”

“I’m sorry, my son. I… don’t have the words to describe it.” 

Father Reynolds stared for a few more seconds before he got a hold of himself. With a parting blessing he took a seat beside Decon and Diana. 

Dean chuckled. “I wish I could see you, Cas.”

Castiel laid a hand lightly atop Dean’s. “One day you will.”

Over the next hour many people walked up to them, all people Sam and Dean had saved over the years. Each person thanked them, and seemed excited to be able to return the favor. 

The brothers were just shocked that people out there cared about them. 

As the appointed time drew nearer, everyone began to settle down. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam watched Elliot, Fin, Benson and Munch quietly enter and casually sit in the back. 

A door opened. 

“All rise for the honorable judge, Kent Waters.”

They all rose respectfully. 

“Be seated.”

Judge Water’s sat down carefully and opened a file. “Today we settle the cases set against Mister’s Dean and Sam Winchester, and Mister James Novak.”

Chita stood briefly. “Your honor, Mr. Novak requests to be addressed as Castiel.”

The judge hesitated briefly, and nodded. “Certainly, Ms. Chita. Now that we’re through with the formalities, let’s begin.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found an approximate list of the things our boys have done, but not an actual *count*, so all the numbers have been made up.

Dean winced as a list of their offenses was read.

 

Halfway through he leaned across to Sam. “Dude, we really need to cut down on what we do.”

 

Sam stared at him incredulously. “Guilt?”

 

“Boredom. Christ, I think I might die of old age before he finishes that list.”

 

“Maybe we should work on how much we get _caught_ doing.”

 

The judge paused, looking up. “Is there a problem, Mr. Winchester?” Chita winced.

 

“No, sir.” The brother’s chorused.

 

The judge continued.

 

“… two counts of kidnapping, twelve counts of assault, twenty-two counts of grave desecration, thirty-six counts of identity theft, fifty- _nine_ counts credit card fraud, five counts of murder and three counts of attempted murder. How do the defendants plead?”

 

Chita stood up. “Not guilty, your honor.”

 

The judge leaned forward in his chair. “Do your clients realize that they are facing heavy charges, and that they may be doing harm to themselves by facing this case together?”

 

Chita turned and looked at each of the three men in turn. They stared back. “Yes, your honor.”

 

“And they wish to continue?”

 

“Yes, your honor.”

 

“Very well, Ms. Novak, the floor is yours.”

 

Casey stood up, glaring at the opposing table before walking over to the jury’s box.

 

“As I’m sure you know, the Winchester’s have been fronting the FBI’s Most Wanted for years. The only time they’ve been off it has been when they were presumed dead.” She casually looked over her shoulder. “They look pretty alive to me.” She turned back to the jurors. “A crazed father brainwashed his eldest son, Dean. Now Dean has turned his brother into a psychopath like him, and together they’ve brainwashed James Novak, a married man with a beautiful daughter. Now he doesn’t even remember her.”

 

Behind her Castiel’s brows furrowed. “Of course I remember Clair.”

 

The judge banged his gavel. “Ms. Chita, please control your clients, or I will be forced to hold them in contempt.”

 

“My apologies, your honor.” She turned to Castiel and hissed, “You aren’t allowed to speak while she’s giving her opening statement.”

 

Castiel’s head fell to the side. He opened his mouth to answer. Dean grabbed his wrist lightly. Castiel settled back.

 

Casey faced their table sarcastically. “May I continue?”

 

“Of course, Ms. Novak.”

 

Casey turned back to the jury, and slowly paced before them, looking into each person’s eyes as she passed. “As I was saying, in the beginning Sam could be forgiven. James could be forgiven.” She shook her head sadly. “But now they’ve done so much. They’ve killed so many, it can no longer be said that only Dean Winchester is to blame.”

 

She resumed her pacing. “Agent Henrickson, a former FBI agent believed this. He proclaimed the Winchester’s dead before he was killed.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Now today you are going to hear a lot of testimonies from people the Winchester’s have attacked. These people are all going to tell you these boys are innocent, but we all know the truth. We all know how good Dean is at brainwashing those around him. How good they all are at forcing silence or dishing out punishment. Today you have the opportunity to put these boys where they belong.” She strode over to stand before Dean, a barely controlled sneer on her face; Dean straightened up in response, meeting her hard look. “In a dark pit.”

 

She walked back to her table and sat down.

 

The judge indicated for Chita to begin.

 

She calmly stood and approached the jury. “A dark pit. Is that really the way America works? You find someone who’s had nothing but a bad hand in life, lay all of your problems on them, and then throw them in a dark pit?” She raised an eyebrow as she looked at Casey. “What I’m _sure_ Ms. Novak meant was that everyone deserves a fair trial.”

 

With a serious frown, she gave her attention back to the jury. “You see, she’s using such harsh language because she is afraid. Afraid that she cannot win this case.”

 

She crossed her arms behind her back and slowly made her way to the head of the box. She stood their firmly and allowed her gaze to move freely across the jurors. “I will be calling many witnesses, and I hope you notice that they were all supposedly _attacked_ by the Winchester’s. All of these witnesses had, according to the prosecution, less than twenty four hours of contact. In actuality they often had less than fifteen hours of contact. Any person apt in psychology will tell you it is impossible to ‘brainwash’ any one as well as what you’ll see today in that amount of time. That’s right, these people are going to testify _for_ the Winchester’s. They are going to tell you how the Winchester’s saved them, _protected_ them. The prosecution will fight this every step of the way, claiming Sam or Dean tampered with their minds, and yet they do not have a single doctor or specialist ready to prove to you that any form of hypnosis took place.” She looked pointedly at Casey, and then back to the jury.

 

“I’m not asking you to suddenly forget that Sam and Dean have been on the FBI’s Most Wanted for most of their lives. I’m not asking you to forget that that man, Castiel, used to go by a different name, and have a different past. I’m asking you to listen to the witnesses, and look at the evidence. In America, every person is entitled to a trail to prove guilt. _Prove_ guilt. So pay attention in this case, and see if the evidence _proves_ any of what the prosecution says actually took place.”

 

Chita returned to her table. Dean grinned at Sam. “She’s awesome.”

 

Sam struggled not to roll his eyes.

 

Judge Waters crossed his hands quietly and opened a thin manila envelope on his desk, observing a list of witnesses. “Ms. Chita, you may call your first witness.”

 

“Thank you, your honor. I call Mara Daniels to the stand.”

 

A beautiful woman stood up and walked forward. She smiled at Dean as she passed. Sam glanced over. “Was she our lawyer back in Folsom?”

 

Dean nodded brightly. “Yep!”

 

Mara sat down inside the witness box. A guard walked up. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

 

Castiel’s brow furrowed. Sam snickered as Dean shoved his shoulder. Chita glared.

 

Mara smiled. “I do.”

 

“Mrs. Daniels, could you tell the court your occupation?”

 

“I am a Public Defender.”

 

“And how did you meet the Winchester’s?”

 

“I was assigned their case while they were in Folsom Prison.”

 

“Folsom Prison? They must have done something pretty terrible. How is that you are here speaking on their behalf?”

 

“When I was going over their case I couldn’t help but feel like they were wrongly accused of many of the things in their file.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes. I noticed that where ever there is a string of unusual deaths the Winchester’s will show up. They’re never there before the deaths begin, always after. And when they leave, the deaths stop. And then through the course of my interactions with them I couldn’t help but feel my suspicions further. They were so… nice, to everyone. I’ve dealt with a lot of people who have been guilty of a lot of things, and I can almost always… tell. But these boys were nothing but polite and charming. And then…”

 

“And then what, Mrs. Daniels?”

 

“Before the Winchester’s arrived at Folsom there was a string of unusual deaths. Prisoners in perfect health were having heart attacks. I don’t know what happened, but after they left, the deaths stopped. Just like their MO shows.” 

 

“Thank you, Mrs. Daniels. I have no further questions.”

 

“Ms. Novak, your witness.”

 

Casey crossed her arms causally behind herself as she approached the witness box. “A string of heart attacks, Mrs. Daniels?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And you believe the Winchester’s stopped these deaths?”

 

“All I can testify to is that the deaths _stopped_ after the Winchester’s left.” 

 

“Really. I’m sorry, but I don’t see how your testimony can be of any use then.”

 

Mrs. Daniels leaned forward. “It seems to be a habit for these boys to  _stop_ people from dying. I would think their record shows that.”

 

“What their record _shows_ Mrs. Daniels, is a series of murders by psychopaths.”

 

Chita stood abruptly. “I object, your honor. Ms. Novak’s interpretation of the case is not being questioned.”

 

“Sustained. Either ask a question or release the witness Ms. Novak.”

 

“Mrs. Daniels, while you were representing the Winchester’s you informed Agent Henrickson that Dean asked a favor of you, is that right?”

 

Mara frowned. “Yes, he did.”

 

“What did he ask you?”

 

“He wanted information on a former nurse.”

 

“Really? Which nurse did he want the information on?”

 

“Nurse Glockner.”

 

“And what did Dean want with Nurse Glockner?”

 

“He wanted to know where she was buried.”

 

“Did you give him this information?”

 

She hesitated. “I plead the fifth.”

 

“Of course. Mrs. Daniels, isn’t it true that after this conversation with you, regardless of what was or was not said, both of the brothers managed to escape, and then Nurse Glockner’s grave was desecrated, while the FBI rushed off to the _wrong_ cemetery?”

 

Mara glared, and said nothing.

 

“Were you aware that they dug up her grave, poured salt and lighter fluid over her bones, and then burned them?”

 

Chita raised a hand. “I object your honor. Badgering the witness.”

 

“Sustained.”

 

Casey nodded. “I have no further questions.”

 

Judge Water’s smiled at Mara. “You may step down.”

 

Chita stood. “I call Lisa Braeden to the stand.”

 

Dean looked around quickly. “Lisa?”

 

Lisa smiled. “Hello, Dean.”

 

The judge looked at Dean pointedly.

 

The officer swore Lisa in, and then Chita approached her. “Hello, Mrs. Braeden. Could you explain to me the nature of your relationship with my clients?”

 

“I was involved in a romantic relationship with Dean nine or ten years ago, and about one year ago Dean saved the life of my son, and a few other children in the neighborhood.”

 

“He saved your son’s life?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Could you explain to the court what happened?”

 

“It was my son’s eight birthday, and Dean had dropped by to say hello. He was going to stay for a few days when he began noticing some strange things in the neighborhood. At first I… well, I thought he was crazy, and I asked him to leave. Then my son started acting very strangely. It was, well, it was kind of scary really. Dean and Sam stopped in again to make sure I was alright, and even though all this was going on, I still didn’t want to believe them. I couldn’t. When they left, I was in the living room and my son Ben walked into the room; I caught sight of his reflection and… it was not my son. It was… I don’t know what it was. And then he was just coming at me, and it was my son, but it wasn’t and I didn’t know what to do, I mean, who would believe me? Then… he went up in red flames. I can’t explain it. One moment I thought I was going to die, and the next I was in my house, alone. I was freaking out, and then Sam and Dean pull up in my driveway and… and they had Ben. And he was back to normal, it was my _son_.”

 

“That... certainly sounds very traumatic, how did _Ben_ handle this?”

 

“Oh, Ben _adores_ Dean.” She smiled warmly at Dean.

 

“He is a minor. Would it be alright with him if we questioned him as well?”

 

“Oh, certainly.”

 

“Thank you. I have no further questions.”

 

Casey stood. “So, you had a romantic relationship with Dean eight years ago?”

 

Lisa smiled. “Oh yes. One of the best nights of my life.”

 

“Can you explain exactly what transpired?”

 

Lisa’s smile faltered, and her eyes flicked to where her son and then back to Casey. “We met at a bar, he was very charming and we went back to my place, and in the morning he left.” She said stiffly.

 

“Well that certainly doesn’t sound like the best night of your life to me.”

 

Lisa frowned and leaned forward. “You clearly haven’t had many.”

 

Casey smirked. “Are you sure nothing else took place that evening?”

 

“Wha – Yes. What else would have taken place?”

 

“Did Dean talk to you about his family, or his life?”

 

“Not then, no. After the incident with Ben, he told me.”

 

“What did he tell you?”

 

Lisa frowned and looked at Dean. Casey followed her gaze.

 

Sam glared at Dean; his brother shrugged. Castiel frowned. Dean grinned.

 

Casey turned back to Lisa. “If you’re… afraid to testify in open court, I’m sure we can talk in private.”

 

Lisa looked at Casey incredulously. “I’m not _afraid_ Ms. Novak. You’re just not going to believe me.”

 

“Try me.”

 

“That night, Dean explained to me that he and his brother hunted things. Evil things. Things you and I will hopefully never have to deal with. He explained that a changling that had stolen the children, and he explained what that meant. Then he, naturally, told me why he’d never told me before. If I hadn’t… _seen_ for myself what had happened, I never would have believed him.”

 

“A changling. Stole your son.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Casey gave Chita a disbelieving look, and then one more to the jury. “No further questions.”

 

Chita stood up. “With his mother’s permission, I call Ben Braeden to the stand.”

 

Before she could return to her seat, the lights flickered, sending the room into darkness for a moment. Sam and Dean looked up at the ceiling.

 

Dean snatched two paperclips out of a file in front of Chita, and handed one to his brother before quickly picking the locks on his cuffs. Castiel watched the back door and snapped the cuffs off his wrists easily.

 

They stood.

 

All the officers in the room instantly drew their weapons, screaming at them to get down. The people in the audience carefully ducked their heads.

 

Bobby stood up and joined the brothers.

 

Then with a crack the doors flew open.

 

Zachariah, flanked by two angels in dark suites stood in the doorway. The lights over head burst.

 

“Aw, you caught little Dean and Sammy Winchester for us. How thoughtful.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came up in my head, so it’ll probably come up in some of your heads too. I am approaching the angel knives like this: they can injure angels to the extent that they cannot heal the wounds as quickly as they normally could; the host body will just have to heal in the human way. This means that fatal injuries will kill them. That doesn't mean that any small nick will kill them.

Zachariah smiled calmly in the doorway, paying no mind to the mortals cowering in their benches. The Winchester’s eyed him defiantly. “How did you find us?”

 

“You boys have been making big headlines. Did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

 

Castiel looked at Dean. Dean’s eyes widened. “No, Cas, wait –” He began, grabbing Castiel’s sleeve. The angel looked down at his hand, and seemed to come to some decision. He looked at Dean meaningfully and moved forward, breaking the hunter’s grip easily. Bobby stopped Dean before he could follow.

 

Castiel walked through a small half door and up the aisle where the angels stood waiting. Dean frowned, his eyes tracing over the officer’s in the room. He was surprised no one moved to stop him.

 

There was still a loud echo in the room as Benson and the other officer’s who’d been following them this past week continued shouting something at Castiel about freezing. They seemed hesitant to fire on him while he was unarmed, but the closer he came to the exit, the higher their guns raised. Castiel ignored them, and kept his eyes on his brothers.

 

In the front of the room Sam and Dean moved to stand protectively in front of Chita as Bobby moved over to where Casey crouched beside her desk. She watched them incredulously. “Is this some kind of escape plan?” She hissed.

 

Sam laughed shortly, keeping his arms spread as he started to walk Chita back to the judges podium. “Uh, no.”

 

Dean nodded, his eyes searching frantically for a weapon, _any_ weapon. “I’d much rather be with you guys than go with those dicks.”

 

Sam grinned. “And they _really_ don’t like me.”

 

Casey straightened. “You think you’ll get away with this? You –” Bobby grabbed her shoulders as Dean leapt to her side, forcing her back down. He peaked over her head at the door. “You guys need to keep out of the way and try not to draw any attention to yourselves.” Dean said quietly. “Zach really won’t mind killing you.”

 

Casey laughed shortly. “And let me guess, staying with you will be _so_ much safer.”

 

Dean frowned at her. His eyes caught on Elliot and Fin. “Just stay down.” He said. He patted Bobby’s shoulder, and quickly jumped the small barrier, making his way over to them as silently as he could.

 

Near the door Zachariah laughed at Castiel. “I knew you were stupid, brother, but this? Are you really going to face me unarmed?”

 

Castiel watched the two angels standing just behind Zachariah carefully. “If I must.”

 

Zachariah smirked. “The Winchester’s are coming with me.”

 

“Over my dead body.” Castiel stated flatly.

 

“Naturally. Kill him.” He ordered, without breaking his gaze.

 

The two angels jumped forward, silver knives catching the light. Olivia shouted a warning and fired a shot into one of the angel’s shoulders. A small explosion of blood signaled the bullets entry, but otherwise the wound went unnoticed. A few more shots were fired into the shoulder and chest of the second angel, Zachariah, and one into Castiel’s forearm before Zachariah grew annoyed.

 

He gestured with his hand and the weapons were thrown behind them, sticking to the wall. “Now _sit,_ ” with groans they were all forced into the benches behind them, “and _watch_.” Instantaneously their heads were jerked to the side, and then they were all released.

 

Elliot gingerly touched his chest, panting. He looked at Munch. “What the hell was that?”

 

The elder detective shook his head as he tried to catch his breath.

 

“Uh, hi.”

 

They both whipped around to face the voice. Dean ducked quickly. “Don’t bring any attention to yourselves!” He hissed, before carefully glancing back over at Castiel. The angel was doing well. He was moving quickly and gracefully, dodging the blades that attempted to cut into him, his hands moving against forearms and elbows to redirect their knives in hopes that they would cut one another.

 

Dean ducked his head again as he watched Zachariah easily bypassed them as he stalked to the front of the room.

 

“So what,” Munch asked quietly, glancing at Fin to make sure the other detective was aware of Dean’s presence. “He can’t see you or something?”

 

“Yeah.” Dean answered his hand flying to his chest. “Cas inscribed something on Sam and I to make us invisible to angels.”

 

He could almost hear Elliot’s eyes roll. “We checked you two. Aside from those pentagrams and a hand full of scars, you don’t have any marks on you.”

 

Dean touched his chest. “It’s written on our ribs.”

 

“Yeah. Right.”

 

At the front of the room, Sam pushed Chita away hurriedly. The security guard near the jury box, grabbed her arm and pulled her to crouch behind him. Sam and Bobby nodded at one another, and stood to meet Zachariah.

 

As the angel shoved the small door aside, he glanced at Casey. She scrambled backwards, keeping the table as a welcome barrier between herself and the three men. Zachariah smirked at her before he gave his attention to the hunters.

 

He dismissed Bobby, gesturing simply, sending him flying back into the wall behind the jurors. A few women screamed as he landed among them. Zachariah turned to Sam. “Can’t run anymore, can you boy? Where’s your brother?”

 

Sam stared at him defiantly.

 

Zachariah laughed. “I may not be able to sense him. But I know he’s in this room. He’d never leave you, now would he, Sammy? I will find him eventually. Do yourself a favor and tell me now.”

 

Dean turned his eyes from them and gripped Elliot’s arm tightly. “Do any of you have something sharp? A pocket knife? Anything?”

 

“No.” Elliot hissed. “We’re in a _court room_. They don’t let you bring weapons in.”

 

“You’re a cop. You’re an exception.”

 

“Wait.” Olivia whispered, leaning in. “These guys aren’t with you two?”

 

Dean laughed. “You guys keep thinking that.” He pointed at Castiel. The angel was still holding his own, but blood now stained his jacket red, and dark crimson streaks showed where his hands had been sliced open. Munch narrowed his eyes; he could almost swear that the wounds cracked with light. “I would think that would be evidence enough that they’re not here to bust us out.”

 

In the front of the room Zachariah turned, his eyes easily tracing over ducked heads. “Oh, Dean?” He sing-songed. “It’s time to come out and face your destiny!”

 

“Shit.” Dean muttered.

 

“Go to Hell.” He heard Sam say.

 

Zachariah turned back to him, crowding him up against the judges podium. He raised a hand and twisted it. Sam collapsed on himself, a cry of pain tearing from his throat as blood stained his lips. He clenched his fist, and Sam hit the floor, his arms wrapped around his stomach as more blood poured from his mouth.

 

As Sam looked up from the floor, his eyes fell on Casey. He looked away at the horror written across her face, and pushed himself to his knees. “Fuck you.” He said, his voice hoarse.

 

“Oh, Sammy.” Zachariah said happily, reaching out to pat his head as his eyes one again cast out over their audience. “I can stop his pain, Dean.” Another hand gesture awarded him a low groan. “Just show yourself. You know I’ll find you eventually anyway.” He moved again and earned himself a short scream.

 

Dean clenched his teeth and got to his feet.

 

Zachariah smirked and snapped his fingers. Sam fell to the floor gasping as oxygen found its way into his lungs unimpeded, blood soaking into his shirt.

 

Zachariah waved, and Dean hurtled towards the front of the room, slamming into a wall and falling to the floor in a heap. Zachariah calmly walked over to him. “Play time is over, Dean. Say yes. Now.”

 

Dean rolled over and slowly got to his feet. “Never.”

 

Zachariah shook his head, chuckling to himself. “You know, I’m tired of this, and I think you are too. Tired of hurting the ones you love. Don’t you think its odd, Dean? Odd that everyone you love either leaves you or dies? Look at your mother. Look at your father, hell, look at Sam. That only leaves…” He glanced over his shoulder at Castiel and a small smile started to spread over his lips. He turned back to Dean knowingly. “The runt isn’t going to be able to keep that up for very long, Dean. Say yes and I’ll call them off.” He moved closer to Dean, leaning into his personal space. “Or would you like to be responsible for his death too?”

 

Dean swallowed carefully, and watched as Castiel dodged one blow, and accidentally pushed himself into the way of another, causing a violent splash of red to stain his white shirt before it blended into the already dark tatters of his coat. Dean forced himself to look away. “Go to hell you feathery bastard,” he finally ground out.

 

Dean tried to hold Zachariah’s gaze, but he couldn’t help but watch the two men in dark suites circled Castiel out of the corner of his eye. Zachariah smiled deliberately, and turned to watch as well. “Why am I not surprised?” He said. “Oh well. After everything he’s done, he deserves to die anyway. I’ll be pleased to carry that out now for you.”

 

Dean snarled at Zachariah, but his attention was arrested as one of the angles lunged forward, his silver blade aimed for Castiel’s heart.

 

Castiel dodged the blow at the last possible moment, grabbing the angel’s arm and forcing him to pull round as the other angel tried to slide his blade up under his ribs. Castiel moved quickly, dancing between the two bodies as he gracefully avoided their strikes.

 

Zachariah watched him for a few more minutes before an annoyed expression crossed his face. He extended a hand towards Dean and pressed it firmly to the hand print on his shoulder. Dean’s knees buckled and he saw white.

 

Castiel howled.

 

Lying on the floor, Sam’s teeth clenched at the sound. He pushed himself up and looked into Castiel’s agonized face. “Please, Cas.” He whispered.

 

Though he hardly spoke, the angel seemed to hear him. His face pinched in clear effort to put the pain from his mind and keep his body moving.

 

Sam watched as one of the angels moved to push his blade through Castiel’s spine.

 

Castiel’s eyes snapped open and he twisted himself into an impossible shape, stopping the blades decent. He moved too quickly for the eye to track, and soon had the blade out of the angel’s fingers and into his hand, using it to tear the man’s throat out.

 

Three women in the crowd began screaming as the body fell to the floor, electricity dancing over the wound.

 

Castiel flicked blood off the blade as he and the second angel slowly circled each other.

 

As Castiel passed in front of the door, he looked passed the other angel’s shoulder and met Sam’s eyes. He deliberately looked at the puddle of blood on the floor and then back at Sam. In an instant he was back to dodging blows, as though the moment never passed. This time it seemed he and the other angel were on equal footing, and their dance took on a more violent tone, as Castiel bore down on his brother.

 

Sam turned away from the fight and eyed the blood carefully. A cry jerked his eyes back to Dean who was writhing in agony under Zachariah’s grip. Sam grit his teeth as he watched as the angel wrenched Dean’s arm back, forcing Castiel’s missed steps and near misses.

 

“How much longer do you think he will last, Dean? When will the pain finally cost him his life?” Zachariah muttered through Dean’s panted gasps and cut off screams.

 

“What the hell is going on?” Munch whispered frantically.

 

“Maybe they were telling the truth.” Elliot answered with a quiet look at Fin. Fin held his gaze for a long moment, and then cast his gaze out over the room, keeping his head down. With a deep sigh, he left his seat, and made his way to the front of the room.

 

Sam jumped when a hand touched his arm. Fin looked carefully at the pool of blood soaking the younger Winchester’s hands. “What’s going on, Sam?”

 

Casey made a small noise. Fin’s eyes darted to her briefly before he shook Sam lightly, trying to get his attention back.

 

Sam blinked rapidly, and then met Fin’s eyes. “You guys have to get everyone out of here.”

 

“We’re not letting you three get away so easily.” Casey hissed.

 

“Have we moved to escape yet? No. Right now these guys are distracted; we need to take advantage of it.”

 

Fin frowned as he looked at Sam. Throughout their whole ordeal, the Winchester’s had looked fully in control, but now there was a slight trail of fear in his eyes. He nodded slowly. Without breaking their gaze he addressed Casey. “Keep your head down and go get the others to help, alright?”

 

“You’re not going with them?” Sam asked.

 

“Just in case you try to get away.” Fin answered with a slight smile as he placed a bracing hand on Sam’s shoulder.

 

An incredulous smile crossed Sam’s face before his eyes caught on the juror box. Bobby had organized the twelve people within and they were slowly exiting through a small door behind the podium. Over half of the jurors were already out. Sam shared an impressed look with Bobby, then he looked away to avoid drawing any attention to what he was doing.

 

Fin tapped Sam’s shoulder and nodded towards the large door at the back.

 

Behind Castiel’s twisting form the door slowly opened. Olivia managed to usher two people out when suddenly it slammed shut. Zachariah tsked lightly.

 

Dean crumpled to the floor as Zachariah released him and turned to walk forward. He smiled at Sam ruefully. “Did you really think I’d let them go? When they can be so useful?” He turned back to Dean with a smile. “You’ll let your brother die. You’ll let _my_ brother die. What about the civilians?”

 

“No!” Sam leapt up from the floor. With a gesture he slammed back into the podium.

 

“Now who to pick?” Zachariah looked at Dean thoughtfully. The hunter kept his face carefully blank. Zachariah shrugged. “You’re right. Let’s be fair. All of them should suffer.”

 

Zachariah twisted both of his hands and the room filled with screams as the people in the room slipped off the benches and fell to their knees in agony.

 

“You are causing their pain, Dean. Ready for it to stop?”

 

Dean met Zachariah’s eyes, anguish written across his face. “No.” He whispered.

 

Zachariah twisted again, fresh screams filling the air peppered by a few pleas for help.

 

“No.”

 

“What if it kills them, Dean?”

 

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and looked away.

 

Sam watched Zachariah grimly, wishing for a knife that would work on him. He quickly looked at Castiel and the flashing silver in his hands. He dismissed it almost instantly knowing that if Castiel was in the position to give him the weapon he would have by now. Desperately his eyes dropped back to the bloody pool that was slowly hardening. And then an idea formed; he was sure the angel had implied this course of action, but all the same he hoped Castiel would forgive him. He grabbed Fin’s arm. “Get me a knife or a piece of wood or a gun. Get me something. Now. Please. Hurry.” Sam gave his shoulder a light shove, and Fin hurried away.

 

“Well, Dean? Are you really willing to let all of these innocent people die for your stubbornness?

 

Sam covered his hands with blood and turned to the surface behind him, tracing out patterns quickly. Behind him he heard a crash. Something hit his legs before he heard the tell tale sounds of Zachariah tossing someone into a wall. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Fin curled against the wall; he looked to be unconscious. Sam glanced down and saw a large piece of wood against his legs. It looked like it had come off of a table; one end was narrowed to a point with a small metal circle to prevent it from scratching floors, while the other end was a jumble of broken splinters.

 

“Sam?” He heard Zachariah muse. He looked over and saw his brother’s confused expression as the smile fell off the angel’s face.

 

Zachariah threw Dean to the ground and took two striding steps forward, but Sam moved faster, using the broken edge of the wood to slash open his hand and press it to the symbol.

 

There was as cry of rage and a blindingly bright light, and when it faded, Zachariah, Castiel and the other angel were gone.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

There was pressure on all sides; his wings were burning from the strain of keeping him up, and he could hear his vessel’s heart beating in his ears.

 

The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that if he stopped now, the angels behind him would kill him.

 

With a groan he closed his eyes and pulled his wings tighter to his back, trying to relieve the strain. “Please.” He prayed. “ _Please._ Let them be safe.”

 

\----------

 

There was silence in the court room.

 

Slowly people began to feel their chests and stomachs, searching for some wound to justify the pain they’d just experienced. A few casually looked into their neighbors eyes, wondering if they’d felt it too. As seconds became minutes a few braver people peaked over the protection the wooden benches provided, searching for the three men who now seemed to be missing.

 

Munch scanned the room quickly, looking into the terrified eyes of the people around him. Up in the front a group had already gotten to their feet. He wasn’t surprised to note the group was comprised entirely of the defenses witnesses. His eyes made one more pass of the room before he gestured to Elliot and Olivia that it was alright to stand. None of them could explain it. The room was clear. The two assailants and Castiel were gone, and the fourth man still lay silently on the floor, his eyes sightless as his head rested in a growing pool of blood.

 

Munch frowned and walked closer. The ground was scorched where he lay, black marks stretching out and crisscrossing the floor around him. He wondered if it was a cruel irony that the marks resembled wings.

 

In the front of the room Fin glanced at Sam. “What was that?”

 

The young man didn’t seem to hear as he rushed to his brother’s side. “Dean?”

 

“I’m okay, Sammy.” Dean answered quietly before clearing his throat. “Bobby?”

 

“M’okay, son.”

 

Sam grabbed onto Dean’s arm and pulled him to his feet. Dean glanced at the now dried blood on the judges podium and caught Sam’s eye, smiling proudly. “Good thinking.”

Sam nodded. A faint smile touched his lips before it was chased away by a deeper frown. “I hope Cas can keep them off for a while.”

 

“It’s Cas. He’ll do the best he can.”

 

Bobby brushed Sam’s arm, drawing the younger man’s attention. “Here.” He pulled a long cloth out of his jacket pocket. It was lightly stained with grease, but Sam thanked him all the same and wrapped his hand tightly, flexing his fingers experimentally.

 

Dean’s eyes cast out over the room, taking note of the people rising to their feet, eyeing them with fear and confusion. Movement caught his attention, and he elbowed Sam, nodding to the officers quietly reclaiming their guns. “They never quit, do they?” Dean muttered in disbelief. “After everything they just saw, are they really gonna…”

 

“Apparently. Hey Bobby?” Sam asked quietly.

 

“Yeah, son?”

 

“Could you take care of Lisa, Decon and the rest? Thank them for showing up, all that?”

 

Bobby grunted, watching the officers knowingly. “You two got a plan?”

 

“We’ll sorta work it out as we go.”

 

Dean shrugged. “It usually works.”

 

Bobby chuckled as in one swift motion the brothers made for the door near the jury box. They had only taken a few steps before Fin stepped in front of them, blocking their way. They both frowned and Dean’s fingers itched towards his back where his gun typically lay.

 

“Look.” Sam said in low tones. “I like you –”

 

“Yeah.” Dean added. “You guys aren’t so bad for cops.”

 

“But we need to get out of here.”

 

Dean eyed the doors and windows nervously. “Now.”

 

“Before they come back.”

 

“’Cause _that_ ,” Dean said with a gesture to the dried symbol. “Is not going to last forever.”

 

“It sent them away for now, but it doesn’t keep them away.”

 

“And they will come back for us.”

 

\----------

 

The world was still flashing by in a series of snap shots, but now it wasn’t quite so painful. Castiel shifted his wings, helping them move with pressure rather than against it, using this new angle to give him a burst of speed. He hoped it was enough, he _needed_ it to be enough. Behind him he could still hear the angels flying, Zachariah cursing him in countless languages as they tried to catch him.

 

He knew he needed to keep moving. He knew he needed to keep flying. He needed to be focused. At the same time a nagging doubt kept ringing in his ears; what if they gave up and turned around? Would he know in time? He tried to catch glimpses of the shapes behind him. He needed Zachariah’s full attention.

 

As he ducked around mountains, and shot up canyon passes he tried to think of how to keep his brother’s focused on him alone.

 

The answer came easily; he flared his wings, losing some of his speed. If Zachariah thought he could catch him, he wouldn’t try to return to the brothers. All he needed to do was buy the Winchester’s some time.

 

Distantly he hoped this move wouldn’t cost him his life.

 

A knife grazed his wing, and pain flared white. When his vision cleared, his eyes locked with Zachariah and saw the man sneer, victory glinting in his eyes. He kept the contact, issuing a challenge, and then he was running as fast as he dared, streaking across the sky, the other angels close behind him.

 

\---------

 

Fin’s eyes widened. “Come back? They’re coming back?”

 

He was speaking to no one, the brothers quickly ducking around him as they headed towards the door.

 

Fin swore and wheeled around, his hand shooting out to grab Dean’s sleeve and closing on the open air.

 

Dean felt excitement building and naturally started moving faster. The exit was clear, they were almost there.

 

They jerked back, a grip on their shirts forcing them to stop. “You’re not going anywhere.” Elliot growled.

 

Dean turned, anger glinting in his eyes. “You know what?” He looked seriously at his brother. “I’ve had enough of this.”

 

Dean expected a fight from Sam, and was surprised when he received a tight nod.

 

“Sorry about this.” Dean grinned. “Well. Not _that_ sorry.” He broke Elliot’s grip easily and punched him as hard as he dared, hitting the detective in just the right area to knock him down while not causing any serious damage.

 

Sam refrained from hurting anyone, quickly twisting out of the hold Munch had on him, and then he and Dean were running out the door as fast as they could, gaining a little headway before they heard the detectives racing up behind them.

 

Dean had never seen the court system from behind the scenes before. It was different than he’d expected; more like a standard office building than one long hallway leading to a conference room or whatever the hell movies showed. There were numerous hallways back here that doubled back and curved around with multiple twists and turns. Doorways appeared every few feet, some standing open and others closed; Dean grinned when he imagined the officers wasting time searching every one.

 

The maze of hallways worked well in keeping their pursuers at bay, but after a while it began to put Dean’s teeth on edge. “Sam…” He growled.

 

“Hold on!” Sam said, jerking to a halt. “This way!” Then he was leading them in a different direction. Overhead Dean saw a large red sign that said ‘Emergency Exit.’ A smile stole across his face.

 

They hit the door hard, forcing it open with a bang, setting off a loud screaming alarm. Sam grabbed Dean’s collar and lead him up the stairs. “They’ll expect us to go down.” He panted.

 

They rushed up two floors, and then waited. Within a few seconds the passageway flooded with people – some jurors, some lawyers, some judges, all filling the stairway completely, none casting them any unusual looks.

 

Dean grinned, and he and Sam ducked their heads, using the crowd to hide from the police. All they had to do was move slowly and calmly, and any pursuing officers eyes would naturally slide off them.

 

As they moved down a flight they heard the officers shouting for people to move as they shoved their way through the milling crowd and down the stairs, racing out the door at the base.

 

Dean and Sam kept their heads ducked, trying to keep a stranger between themselves and the now frantic officers they began to pass. Some of the tension left Dean’s shoulders as the blue coated policemen sprinted past them, but they forced themselves to continue moving slowly until they were outside in the sunlight.

 

The few cops Dean could see looked pissed as they began hurriedly herding the people coming out of the building, intent on searching every last person present although the few they could see seemed a little distracted as though they already knew the brothers were past them.

 

Sam waited until the officer closest to them looked away before he grabbed Dean, dragging to the left into a dark ally way.

 

Out of sight now, they broke into a run.

 

\----------

 

Castiel was tiring. He was getting sloppy. Twice now he’d clipped an outcropping of rocks and gone tumbling down, catching himself before he came crashing out of the sky.

 

With each passing moment, he became more aware of his vessel’s body and of his own essence; he could feel the tears in his hands, and he could feel each drop of blood that left him, dropping to the Earth and creating violent splashes of red flowers in its wake. His wings trembled with exertion, his maneuverability lessening as his feathers began to stick together as blood flowed freely between them.

 

He flew on for a few more minutes before he finally conceded that he’d done his best. He needed to end this chase. He needed to hide. Guilt flooded his soul at the realization. What if he hadn’t given the Winchester’s enough time? What if Zachariah found them? Castiel closed his eyes and pushed the thoughts from his mind. He took a deep breath, and with one final burst of speed, he flipped around and shot back. He caught his pursuers unawares, and raced past them, heading to the court house.

 

\----------

 

Elliot’s temper was running out. Security closed down the building, sealing every door as they began a floor by floor search for the Winchester’s. When preliminary searches turned up nothing, they called in a canine unit to try again.

 

Outside they had everyone who had been in the building at the time of the escape isolated. Every person was being searched and questions. “Yeah.” Fin growled. “Because that’s going to work. Nobody out there is going to know anything.”

 

Olivia sighed. “I know it’s not likely, but…”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. What if they do, right?”

 

Munch frowned grimly, and turned, walking back inside and up the stairwell. His fellow detectives hesitated a moment before following.

 

“Do we wanna know where you’re going?” Fin called.

 

“We’re not going to find anything out there. They’re gone. I don’t know how they always manage to disappear, but I’m not wasting my time watching those officers comb threw everyone. I want one more look at the court room before it gets flooded with people again.”

 

“Why?” Elliot asked. “That’s the one place we’re _sure_ they aren’t.”

 

“I’m not asking you to come with me.” Munch stated flatly.

 

“Oh shut up. You know we’re coming.” Fin said.

 

They dodged a lot of people on the way back to the court room. Blue coated officers moved in packs through every hallway as they searched every room and German Sheppard’s tugged at the ends of their leashes as they smelled every corner and pathway. When they reached the actual court room however, everything else faded away. No one searched this room. Two officers stood guard at either door, but it was otherwise silent.

 

In the massive hysteria that had followed the Winchester’s departure, no one had managed to move the body yet, and it still lay untouched in the center of the room. A few paper tags had been placed near the puddle of blood, the man’s head and the scorched floor around the body.

 

Elliot, Fin and Olivia stopped a few feet in the room as Munch approached the body. “You’d think it was staged…” He mused.

 

“Why?” Fin asked, slowly moving to stand beside his partner.

 

“The wings.”

 

“What?”

 

“These black marks. They look like wings. How the hell could that have happened?”

 

“What? You think they staged the fight and drew the wings on the floor?”

 

“No. No, I don’t think they staged that fight. I don’t think the Winchester’s would have hurt James like that just to screw with us. I just don’t know how _this_ happened.”

 

They all paused as a sound filled the room. It sounded like… a fluttering of wings… and then Castiel crashed to the floor, his hands leaving dark red streaks as he quickly pushed himself to his feet.

 

Olivia caught his shoulder; he looked disoriented, and staggered slightly before he caught himself.

 

His eyes swept the empty room, passing easily over the guards at the doors now reaching for their guns and calling desperately into the radios at their shoulders. “Where are Sam and Dean?” He asked.

 

Olivia looked at the bloody mess of his hands, the ruins of his shirt and chest, the streaks of blood across his face, blending back into his hair. “Call a bus.” She called over her shoulder. “It’s okay, we’re going to get you help.”

 

“Where are Sam and Dean?” Castiel asked more forcefully, his eyes hardening.

 

“You’re losing a lot of blood.” Olivia said. “Just calm down, we’ll work everything out soon.” She turned back to the officers at the door, confirming that they’d made the call. Castiel glanced down at his wounds, and instantly disregarded them.

 

“They managed to disappear on us.” Munch said. Castiel turned to face him.

 

“They are not here?”

 

“No.” Something like a smile crossed Castiel’s face. He nodded and vanished.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know that you lot don't know this, but this is the first time this chapter has been aired. To this point this story has been unfinished... I'd say this is an exclusive ending seen only here, but I'm going to go add the chapter to ffnet as well.

Exhaustion filled him. He knew he couldn’t find the Winchester’s, he needed to go somewhere where they could find him. The answer easily presented itself, and soon he crashed against the side of a familiar house, falling into the scattered scrap and gravel that lay scattered around it.

 

Castiel opened his eyes and checked out his surroundings. Everything seemed safe. All the barriers and wards were still in place. The house was protected, even against him. His head fell back against the worn paint, and he breathed, doing his best to calm the rushing of his vessels heart.

 

Soon pain drew his attention to his hands. They were painted a violent crimson. Dark red streaks traced down, coating his coat and pants, and adding to the mess his other wounds were causing. If he was human he would have bled out by now, but as he was, he was simply left lightheaded, waiting for his body to regenerate itself. Considering the nature of his injuries he knew that would be a long time coming, and he considered finding bandages or perhaps a needle to take care of his palms and whatever else he could reach, but in the end he decided against it. It was too much effort. He slumped back against the broken wood and let his eyes flutter closed.

 

They’d come here eventually. He knew they’d come.

 

As quietly as he could he curled into a ball, making himself as small as possible, using all the energy he had left to mask his presence from the angels looking for him.

 

\----------

 

Dean flicked the curtain aside, checking the empty lot for movement. They'd left the state, running as far as the stolen car would take them, and then found a town. It wasn't so small that new commers would be noted, but at the same time it wasn't so big they had to risk any high tech software a motel secretly or otherwise to keep a physical record of the coming or going of their potential clients. Dean knew he was probably being paranoid about that, but getting caught again so soon was the very last thing he wanted.

 

It took them a few tries before they found the perfect place to hide. Sam pulled over at the first pay phone they saw, one that had a ratty phone book dangling by its spine. He flipped it open and found the first motel listed and they set off. Mr. and Mr. Rockford, checking in.

 

Sam let out his breath the second the door of their room swung shut behind them.

 

“What do you think the chances of them following us are?” Dean asked, dropping their bags by the bed.

 

“I'm not sure I want to bet at this point,” Sam answered.

 

Dean grunted and stationed himself by their window, peering at the street through the dirty blinds, waiting for anything suspicious.

 

Sam's phone rang in his pocket. “Bobby. We're good. Okay, thanks. Yeah. Bye.” Sam tossed the phone onto his bed. “Alright, some guys owe Bobby a favor, he’s going to get them to tow the Impala back to the salvage yard.”

 

Dean didn't answer.

 

Sam nodded, more to himself than anything. “Want me to grab some food?” He wasn't particularly hungry, but a quiet Dean was never a good thing, and when in doubt, food was the best way to reach him. This time it proved in effective. Dean just shrugged, his eyes never leaving the street.

 

“He'll be fine, Dean.”

 

His brother looked at him.

 

“Cas is always fine.”

 

Dean frowned and his eyes returned to the street outside the window. “Think he'll know where to look?”

 

Sam knew what the truth was. That Cas would have had to have known they'd find a car, judge how much gas they'd have, which direction they'd pick, how far they'd travel, and which town they'd pick, and then would have had to use their code to discover their hide out. But the truth wasn't what Dean needed to hear. “He's Cas. He'll find us. He always does. If not here, then at Bobby's.”

 

Dean nodded, but his eyes never left the street.

 

\----------

 

Bobby dumped his things into the passenger seat and fired up the old truck he’d taken out of the salvage yard. His place was almost a days drive away and he figured he’d better get started. The sooner he got out of New York the better.

 

The drive was long and rather boring. He was pleased to note he wasn’t followed by any of New York’s Finest this time.

 

The sun had set by the time he reached the salvage yard, and all of the lights were out. He opened the door and dropped his keys on a nearby table and froze. There was a sharp metallic smell in the air. He supposed a normal person might have missed it, but for a man who hunted things for a living it was unmistakable. It smelled like someone had died somewhere in the darkness.

 

Bobby moved slowly and grabbed a shotgun full of salt. He moved a few steps further and grabbed a pure silver knife. The smell seemed to come from the kitchen. Bobby knew this house well – he’d lived in it almost his whole life – so he knew where to step and where to avoid to make a soundless trip to the kitchen.

 

Once he had his back pressed to the wall in question he took a breath, then burst into the kitchen, gun raised and ready to fire. The empty room made him pause. Bobby flicked on the light. Everything was as he'd left it before the trial. Law books were open on the table, and a list of contact numbers were pinned to the fridge. He stepped further into the room carefully, tense and waiting. He followed the smell all the way to the back door. He raised his gun and opened the door.

 

The angel was slumped just outside, his head lolling back against the wood, his hands bundled in fabric and pressed tight to his stomach. Bobby kept his weapons raised as he did a quick sweep of the yard. Normally he loved the salvage yard, but in the deep shadows of the night it was impossible to tell if any angels lurked just outside his vision. “You alright, boy?” He whispered.

 

Castiel didn't move from his slumped position.

 

“Balls,” Bobby muttered. He turned his back on the stacks of cars and hurried to the house, breaking a seal so the angel could enter. The second Castiel was within he hurriedly fixed the symbol, locking down the house once more.

 

Under the bright lights of the kitchen Cas looked deathly pale. The hunter dumped his weapons on the table and crouched down next to the angel, his hands moving to check for a pulse. He hissed when he touched Castiel's skin. It was cold as ice. Blood still moved sluggishly from every wound, staining the linoleum tiles. He knew that it was impossible for an angel to die without the use of a knife… or he thought he knew anyway. They had never really gone over what was fatal for an angel. “You better not die on me, boy.” He squeezed Castiel’s shoulder, just in case he could feel it somewhere in there got to his feet and went for his med kit.

 

It was well passed 3am by the time he was done sterilizing and sewing the boy back together. He nodded at his handiwork, then delved back into the kit and took out a few lengths of white cloth and bound every wound tightly.

 

Bobby breathed easy once he was certain the angel wasn't about to die. He looked fragile in his crisp white bandages, and to be honest the hunter wasn't even sure if the medical attention would help these kinds of wounds in any way, but he felt better for doing it, and at least to his eye Castiel seemed to be doing better with it.

 

“Time to get you to bed,” he muttered, standing. He slung Castiel's arm over his shoulder and lifted, swearing as he did so. Getting the angel in the house had been easy with adrenalin pulsing through his veins, but without it Castiel proved difficult to move. Bobby managed to get him to a couch in his library before he gave up. He'd meant to bring him up the stairs to an actual bedroom, but there was no way that was happening. He patted the angel's shoulder as he stood and situated himself in his own chair with a tumbler of whiskey. He considered calling his boys and letting them know their angel was alright, but it was far too late - or early depending on which way you looked at it - for that kind of phone call. It could wait until the sun was up.

 

A key in the lock woke him up. Bobby jerked, nearly dropping his glass. He winced at the bright light flooding the room. His pristine handiwork from the night before seemed ruined by the light. Blood streaked bandages covered Castiel's hands, but at least he looked less like death, and more like a normal man sleeping.

 

The door opened and Bobby's hand hovered by his shotgun for just a moment while he waited to identify his new guests. Sam's heavy tread and Dean's low rumble had him dropping his hand and moving to greet his sons. They were in the main hallway speaking low. Dean frowned at his surroundings while Sam tried to press something. Bobby cleared his throat and they broke off, smiling at. Or trying to.

 

“You might have to do a little research on angels.” Bobby said. He looked at his empty glass and moved to the kitchen to rectify the situation.

 

“How's that?” Sam asked. The brothers shared a look and followed.

 

“Well, we can't have your boy dying, now can we? You're going to have to figure out how the hell those winged bastards heal themselves. He's out of the woods, but he sure could use a hand.”

 

Dean turned on his heel and rushed to the next room, stopping when he saw his angel stretched out on the couch.

 

Bobby stepped up behind him, passing over a glass of orange juice. “The boy will be fine. He's survived worse then this.”

 

Despite himself, Dean found himself smiling.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As to why the Law and Order gang didn't get a real ending... that show leaves you with cliff hanger endings all the time, so I'm counting the last chapter as their ending ;)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago, and I can really tell..... but it seemed like cheating to alter it if it was going to stay the same over on ffnet.


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